It is I who took the burden of your misdeeds upon my shoulders that you might become Lady Ferringhall. Very dark, like yours, ma’am. He now understood her interest in Taber, as he called himself: habit, a twice-told tale. “It’s glorious good!” “Suppose now—look at this long snow-slope and then that blue deep beyond —do you see that round pool of color in the ice—a thousand feet or more below? Yes? Well, think—we’ve got to go but ten steps and lie down and put our arms about each other. “I remember you now,” he said.
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