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“‘A SONG OF LADIES AND MY LADY “‘Saintly white and a lily is Mary, Margaret’s violets, sweet and shy; Green and dewy is Nellie-bud fairy, Forget-me-nots live in Gwendolen’s eye. I’ve a dread of love dropping its petals, becoming mean and ugly. “I have never yet met a man whose intellect I could respect. Alice was going to be Mrs. She dropped beside the chair, sat cross-legged, and laughed at the futile jade-coloured wall. “Annabel?” he exclaimed. ’ ‘It’s too late for that,’ Gerald told her evenly. Wood, as, having seen the earth thrown over the remains of the unfortunate Mrs. I know nothing of that young lady. Capes became rigid and adhesive. " "My dear," observed Wood, "you should be more charitable—" "Charitable!" repeated his wife, "that's your constant cry.
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