"That is a pretty verse," she says, quietly. "But I do not know the poem. I should like to read it.",
"Yes, but he always doffed it; and he never put one on like ordinary mortals, he always donned it. You can't think what a difference it makes.",
Then Mrs. Geoffrey turns quickly, and runs home at the top of her speed. She is half sad, yet half exultant, being filled to the very heart with the knowledge that life, joy, and emancipation from present evil lie in her pocket. This thought crowns all others..
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