And I passed myself off as Meysey Hill, and since—then—I haven’t had a minute’s peace. Blotted out—Love! With infinite care, through nearly a thousand pages, her father had obliterated the word Love. "Open my heart, Father of Mercy!" she murmured, in a humble tone, and with downcast looks, "and make me sensible of the error of my ways. “Ever yours, “ANNABEL.
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