When she awoke she felt as if she were adrift on a soft cloud through a golden sky. He was a manly man, free from any strong maternal strain, and he had loved his dark-eyed, dainty bright-colored, and active little wife with a real vein of passion in his sentiment. “And all the rest of it perhaps is a song. ” Michelle smiled at Lucy. Then she saw him. He turned irresolutely to the table upon which lay the scattered leaves of his old manuscripts.
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