"All's bowman, my covey. If only sometimes he would grow angry at her, impatient! But his tender courtesy was unfailing; and under this would be the abiding bitterness of having mistaken gratitude for love. And, when I have seen him pining away before my eyes, getting thinner and thinner every day, I have sometimes thought my prayers were heard. " "Don't go near him, dear Thames," said Winifred; "he may have some ill intention. His own heart was too full of melancholy foreboding. ” He started back as though he had been shot.
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