“I love this warm end of summer more than words can tell,” he said. That's my maxim; and it's the maxim of every honest man. And then, as she stood there, with the fragments of the torn canvas at her feet, some even caught upon her skirt, the door was thrown open, and a girl entered humming a light tune. ’ ‘Hang it, Melusine!’ Losing patience, Gerald seized her by the arms. This foster child’s name was Mary Lucia Iovelli, and we have photographic documents of a woman who looks exactly like you, dear. “Here we are, living in the same suburb,” he began.
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