" Mr. It is foolish, she murmured to herself, foolish. She had a compartment to herself in the train from London to Morningside Park, and she sat with both her feet on the seat in an attitude that would certainly have distressed her mother to see, and horrified her grandmother beyond measure; she sat with her knees up to her chin and her hands clasped before them, and she was so lost in thought that she discovered with a start, from a lettered lamp, that she was at Morningside Park, and thought she was moving out of the station, whereas she was only moving in. Get out your pad and pencil. "Where?" she cried. The sun was setting in spectacular multicolored streams beyond Whitefield Park. I would do anything—I would give anything to make you mine. The fair boy in the audience who had waved was yet another suitor. His reputation was slightly tainted by his marriage to her mother, an exotic blue-eyed raven-haired beauty, a Gypsy doll with a clandestine heritage. "That's for Mrs.
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