"How do I know you are a friend?" asked Darrell. His grief was so audible, that it attracted the notice of some of the bystanders, and Thames was obliged to beg him to control it. These petals! I’ve been wanting to cry all the evening, cry here on your shoulder for my petals. She would not look at him, would not think of him; when her mind wavered, then she muttered to herself in the darkness so as to keep hold of her generalizations.
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