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The petals have fallen—the red petals we loved so. ’ The lashes fluttered demurely. She was keenly resolved to do well in the school examination, and not to be drowned in the seas of emotion that threatened to submerge her intellectual being. Slowly and reluctantly she came to realize that Vivie Warren was what is called an “ideal. “If I had three hands,” she said, with a faint smile, “I would give one to each of you. Larry fell off the truck the Wednesday night before she planned on leaving. Leonardo was to me perhaps like a father, not a lover as you think. That is what they call these aristocratic refugees, the English. But for me it doesn’t matter.
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