There was the cottage she had inhabited for so many years,—in those fields she had rambled,—at that church she had prayed. She moaned as he buried himself completely to the hilt. She donned her gloves. You just married her! But there she is—'with her eyes full of sapphires and her mouth full of pearls'!" McClintock quoted with gentle irony. The dream flowers and is harvested, and we are left by the wayside, having served our singular purpose in the scheme of progress: as the orange is tossed aside when sucked of its ruddy juice.
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