Her husband sat in a chair beside her bed, his head in his hands. “Don’t they look like a pair of young lovers sleeping off a tryst?” He observed. You must come and tell me all about it, although I am not sure whether we shall forgive you for not having written to any of us. It was rigged up for the occasion as it has been many a time before. When he was concentrating, deep shadows formed under his gray eyes. It was an oldfashioned peasant blouse, white, square necked, and trimmed with lace.
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