In a second the glass lay shattered upon the carpet. Her figure was perfect,—tall, graceful, rounded,—and, then, she had deep liquid blue eyes, that rivalled the stars in lustre. “Would they make her Queen?” She asked innocently. “You’re getting too old to put things off, John. ” Manning tapped with his racket on the turf through some moments of silence. '" "'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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