’ She sagged a little suddenly, as if the painful memories in her mind had exhausted her body. As she hoisted her skirts near her waist, she thought ruefully of the last time she had worn such an elaborate gown, sometime near 1910 when petticoats were still considered hip everyday garb. Yes, this was a little better. It was a clear, lovely, October morning. “What do you think you are doing?” He asked. She knew that to expect more now was like anticipating a gold-mine in the garden. Ennison stood by her side. The honey on his tongue turned to ashes. Apparently he thought it very much worth while. She was going to him soon and certainly, going to his strong, embracing arms.
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