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The Enschede Bible—the one out of which she read—had been strangely mutilated. ” It was a tiny little room, daintily furnished, individual in its quaint colouring, and the masses of perfumed flowers set in strange and unexpected places. It was quite dark; but as some of the assemblage carried links, it was soon ascertained to be headed by the same party who had mainly incited the former disturbance. “Oh! I wish,” she said, “that people thought alike about these things. Everything in this world changed—except human folly. She could feel his warm little body trying to snuggle into her, trying to wriggle loose of his swaddling cloth.
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