"Well, then, I will not," returns she, with a last effort at determination, and the most miserable face in the world.,
Down from the cataract in the rocks above the water comes with a mighty will, foaming, glistening, shouting a loud triumphant paen as it flings itself into the arms of the vain brook beneath, that only yesterday-eve was a stream, but to-day may well be deemed a river.,
"Do you sing?" asks he, through mere force of habit, as she pauses..
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