It was a sovereign easily earned. Sydney was strumming over a new song which stood upon the piano. Oh, I’ve loved love, dear! I’ve loved love and you, and the glory of you; and the great time is over, and I have to go carefully and bear children, and—take care of my hair—and when I am done with that I shall be an old woman. “One has to live and learn,” she remarked, with a passable imitation of her father’s manner. "Mr.
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