I guess. . Apparently she was always doomed to weep when she talked to her father. Both arm-chairs had been moved a little so as to face each other on either side of the fender, and in the circular glow of the green-shaded lamp there lay, conspicuously waiting, a thick bundle of blue and white papers tied with pink tape. And now—Dear! Dear! The dayspring from on high hath visited me. “Quite an unimportant one,” he assured her.
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