Ennison had disappeared. She hated to leave; for this hour would be the most interesting. The spinsters had purchased one grass-linen tablecloth; the girl and the young man had purchased nothing. Who? Could it be Gerald? Quickly, she looked back at Gosse’s face, and found him frowning. After all, this could never be the black sheep. So, when I tell you she loves you, I know.
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