But never mind that," said McClintock grinning as he drew the dish of bread-fruit toward him. Anna, quitting her chair, dropped on her knees by her sister’s side and took her hand. She could not move. The call of youth to youth, and we name it love for want of something better: a glamorous, evanescent thing "like snow upon the desert's dusty face, lighting a little hour or two, was gone. “It is like old times,” she said, “to hear these home truths.
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