" "You shall have all I have about me," replied Darrell. She could almost smell her mother’s attar of white roses and lemon verbena with the memory of the story. Some had the dignity and the aloofness of a rock in the sea; and others were as the polished pebbles on the sands—one saw the difference of pebble from pebble only by close scrutiny. She put her hand in his to be squeezed.
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