It’s the poor dears who do, who know they will, know they can’t keep it up, who need to clutch at way-side flowers. But I will go. ’ She shook her head. "Tell him that I—his adopted son, Thames Darrell— am detained here by Jonathan Wild. ‘Yes, only that this consolation he had found before he married my mother. Somewhere in the world there was a book clerk with a discerning mind; for he had given her the best he had. It was convenient for Father Saint-Simon, who could enter this way and prepare in the little room before going up the narrow stair to the chapel above where the nuns waited. The petals have fallen—the red petals we loved so.
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