She did not open the Bible but laid it on the edge of the bed, knelt and rested her forehead upon the worn leather cover. And Pottiswick, of course. I have never told you so, or Sydney, but I can sing—rather well. “I don’t know. I feel that I shall stifle unless I can do something—and do something soon. ’ She dropped to her knees before her old nurse and hugged the workroughened hand with both her own, looking up into Martha’s face where slow tears were tracing down her cheek.
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