When she slipped off of it her head started to bob, filled with air. She put a hand to the lad’s cold cheek and choked on a sob. 'Whoso giveth to the poor lendeth to the Lord;' that's my comfort. As a matter of fact, I had never spoken to him before in my life. For just as though a vague likeness is sometimes borne swiftly in upon one, so a vague dissimilarity between the face on the poster and the heroine of his thoughts had slowly crept into his consciousness. "Whose grave is this?" he inquired of a man who was standing near it.
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