“Lord!” she said. One might have said that these trees grieved for their native soil; and, grieving, refused to bear. ’ ‘I do not tell you why,’ the lady uttered flatly. The next hour makes, or mars you for ever. You’re a far cry from your usual gloomy self these days. It is very bad. With your pencil you see into the hearts of all; and without your pencil you are dumb and blind.
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