Auntie has taken the nails out of my palms, but the scars will always be there. ’ The sharp eyes twinkled. I should have gone mad without it. A lean young man in spectacles pursued her for some time, crying “Courage! Courage!” Somebody threw a dab of mud at her, and some of it got down her neck. Hardened as he may be, that would touch him. And now her mind was so full of the thought that she was in love—in love!—that marvellous state! that I really believe she had some dim idea of talking to him about it. '" "'This be the verse you grave for me: Here he lies where he longed to be; Home is the sailor, home from the sea.
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