Dear me, what a difference it has made! No one would ever think that we were sisters. She liked his face; it had on it the suggestion of gentleness, of fineness. Madame shrugged. But he was wide awake. Oh, the beautiful books! Romance, adventure, love stories! She gathered up the books in her arms and cuddled them, as a mother might have cuddled a child. "My sight is failing me. But, whether she likes it or not, I aim to be on hand to get her out of it.
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