“Ann Veronica,” he said, “I tell you this is love. She could not realize what she saw. But I'll never part with your irons. She enjoyed preparing the evening meals, the smells of potatoes roasting in the oven, the stink of onions in the pan, the crackle of chicken frying. I, too, want to understand—to walk with my head in the light. We got your message, but you never stay out this late. After debating with himself for some time whether he should employ an assistant, or make the attempt alone, his love of gain overcame his fears, and he decided upon the latter plan.
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