He was a fool. The recollection of the forlorn and loveless years—stirred into consciousness by the unexpected confrontation—bent her as the high wind bends the water-reed. She flushed with desire and happiness, her husband had returned to her and all would be aright. Cool and sunny, it seemed that God himself smiled upon that day, the sunbeams streaming through the magnificent arches dustily as the priest murmured in soporific Latin. “Stuffy these trees make the Avenue,” said Mr.
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