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They would be partners only in loneliness. But some day she would find a place to love: there would be rosy apples on the boughs, and there would be flurries of snow blowing into her face. "Mother! dear mother!" cried Jack, folding her to his breast. “You’re not a man for me—not one of a sex, I mean. ” The two congregated instantly. ’ Disappointment flooded her. " "So did I," said Winifred. "He just asked for his coat, which he wanted under his pillow.
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