She threw her arms around Rollo's neck and laid her cheek upon the flea-bitten head. CHAPTER XXXI. He stood back, smiling with an air of proprietorship, and looking about him at the business-like equipment of the room. I'll see. There was the cottage she had inhabited for so many years,—in those fields she had rambled,—at that church she had prayed. There was no broken faith—not even any question of anything of the sort. I didn’t understand.
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