Marthe has told me that the house comes to my mother, Ma—ry Re—men—ham. Annabel shines like a star in the darkness, Rosamund queens it a rose, deep rose; But the lady I love is like sunshine in April weather, She gleams and gladdens, she warms—and goes. "It's you, Jack, who are persuading my brother to do wrong. ‘Tell me about the convent? Were you happy there? They were kind to you, the nuns?’ ‘Oh, but yes.
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