One of the shutters was a trifle damaged, letting in added light. One trouble, however, shot its slanting bolts athwart the shining warmth of that opening day and marred its perfection, and that was the thought of her father. “You don’t waste any time. . Her aunt was a long time before she answered. The folds of a thick muslin neckcloth in some degree protected him, but the gash was desperate. One day she awoke and he was cavorting about underneath the covers.
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