The petals have fallen—the red petals we loved so. “Always planning for death. "We shall meet again ere long, my son," cried Mrs. Oh! I'm in such a fluster!" Upon which, she snatched up her fan, cast a look into the glass, smoothed down her scarf, threw a soft expression into her features, and led the way into the next room, whither she was followed by her daughter and Thames Darrell.
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