“You ARE a female thing at bottom,” he admitted. “And we will sail that splendor wide, From day to day together, From isle to isle of happiness Through year’s of God’s own weather. “I believe that you are right,” he said softly. Wood, now more buxom and more gorgeously arrayed than ever,—as well as a young and beautiful female, in whom he was at no loss to recognise the carpenter's daughter.
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