His thoughts, indeed, were too painful for utterance, and so acute were his feelings, that, for some time, they quite overcame him. Even given that he was hopelessly enamoured of the wench, a fact which was obvious to the meanest intelligence. Will you read to me? I am tired; and the sound of your voice makes me drowsy. It was owing to the untimely end of this poor fellow that Mrs. She shivered, more due to his presence than the changing weather. The small Diedermayer clan was a captive audience.
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