Anna, my love, you cannot have forgotten so soon. “Your father is dead too, I believe,” he continued, “and your mother. The colouring was green and white, with softly shaded electric lights, an alcove bedstead, which was a miracle of daintiness, white furniture, and a long low dressing-table littered all over with a multitude of daintily fashioned toilet appliances. Pausing with the intention of turning back, he glanced in the direction of the village church, the tower of which could just be seen through the trees.
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