"Breathe at this phial," said Winifred. It will give me great pleasure to settle an annuity for a moderate amount upon you on certain conditions. It is dull—deadly dull. Mere formality. You must live for me. She twisted her fingers tightly. Softly she rose to her feet. So, when I tell you she loves you, I know. I'm burning up. Youth finds it pleasant sometimes to be melancholy. Her father was right: Ruth must never know.
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