"Give me till to-morrow," implored she, "and if I can bring myself to part with him, you shall have him without another word. “How dare you!” she panted, with her world screaming and grimacing insult at her. In a little while—to-morrow—all these tender, beautiful emotions will pass away, and I'll become what I was yesterday, a cynical, miserly old spinster. Lucy had passed the house once on the sidewalk, on a rare day when he was shoveling snow. Manning, in his entirely different dialect, indorsed her brother Roddy’s view of things. He turned round toward her and found her looking at him and standing very still.
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