. Was there ever such madness?” “I am afraid that I don’t understand,” Ennison answered. The elements were wrathful as their passions. Mirages, over which he was constantly throwing bridges which were wasted efforts, since invariably they spanned solid ground. There was a brief pause, a crowded pause, between them. “Good God!” he exclaimed. ” The man nodded. He was a manly man, free from any strong maternal strain, and he had loved his dark-eyed, dainty bright-colored, and active little wife with a real vein of passion in his sentiment.
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