He called a waiter. He had heard me sing—the fool thought himself in love with me. "Here are a pair of gloves and a nosegay for you. The sun was setting, casting long dreary shadows across deformed apple trees. There is something in prayer; not that there may be any noticeable result, any definite answer; but no human being can offer an honest prayer to God without gaining immeasurably in courage, in fortitude, in resignation, and that alone is worth the effort. He never said hello, as if it had become a personal taboo for him.
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