"Poor thing!" muttered he, as the widow departed on her errand, "she's seen better days and better circumstances than she'll ever see again, I'm sure. Love lives on a higher plane. ” He was silent for some moments. At the eastern gate of the churchyard stood the carriage with the steps lowered. She trembled; but she did not know why. The pieces fell to the ground in a little white shower. But give me till to-morrow—only till to-morrow—I may be able to part with him then.
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