He was leaning against a window frame, his hat in his hand. This salute of his—actually the first she could remember—while it did not disturb her, began to lead her thoughts into new channels of speculation. She thought of her father in the garden, and of her aunt with her Patience, as she had seen them—how many ages was it ago? Just one day intervened. Don't build your hopes too high; but I will do what I can.
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