The call of youth to youth, and we name it love for want of something better: a glamorous, evanescent thing "like snow upon the desert's dusty face, lighting a little hour or two, was gone. ” Lucy hesitated. "My sight is failing me. Finally she decided upon a step that had always seemed reasonable to her, but that hitherto she had, from motives too faint for her to formulate, refrained from taking. Poor young lady! She trembled too, and was unable to give her evidence. " "The deuce he has!" cried Dump. Wood, meantime, had not remained idle. "I can't," answered Blueskin. She never knew what became of her farmer after that.
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