She had thrown a shawl about her and, as they went together towards the tram, sprays of her fresh warm breath flew gaily above her cowled head and her shoes tapped blithely on the glassy road. You apprehended it as ONE thing. Dishonored and tragic, she was all before me; but even as I fixed and, for memory, secured it, the awful image passed away. I came down to the drive while she stood in the doorway.
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