The expression, however, which would chiefly have interested a beholder, was that of settled and profound melancholy. ” She glanced out of the window, and the distant trees were a froth of hard spring green and almond blossom. Suddenly she thrust her head out of the window. Wanton! Had I been one, even God would have forgiven me, understanding. "Spring!—I never knew any. But what did the occupant of the box care? The laugh was always with the dead: they were out of the muddle. It was about—a question of what I might do or might not do.
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