It is the immediate inspiration of confidence; it alleviates pain, because we know by that smile that pain is soon to leave us; it becomes the bulwark against our depressive thoughts of death; and it is the promise that we still have a long way to go before we reach the Great Terminal. ’ ‘And was not she put out?’ demanded Miss Froxfield with a tinkling laugh. He's more like a lord than—" As she spoke, steps were heard approaching; the door was thrown open, and a young man marched boldly into the room. Then, mysteriously, he no longer smelled or tasted it. She could not explain in words why they disappointed her or that she was disappointed. But he dismissed that because then she would ask her lover and not him all these things. She could still remember his face, the perpetually wet lips that turned down at the sides, his drooping Roman eyes. Now keep still. It may be, it probably will all come to, nothing. But I wrapped it in that nun’s gear you give me.
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