Certainly not a gentlewoman. Others are smart but fall prey to emotional damage, the female lunar instinct of cunning that goes awry. The door to the library burst open. And no ill-chances. She felt him sometimes at night as he called to her in her dreams. The air, perfumed with the delicious fragrance of the new-mown grass, was vocal with the melodies of the birds; the thick foliage of the trees was glistening in the sunshine; all nature seemed happy and rejoicing; but, above all, the serene Sabbath stillness reigning around communicated a calm to her wounded spirit.
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