” He smiled, and she felt love for him in that moment as the smile lit up his ebony eyes, eyes whose blackness seemed unfathomable. We can be married tomorrow in Paris. "May come!—it will come!—it shall come!" cried the carpenter, shaking his hand menacingly at him. 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.
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