I would that you were my own. For the first time in her life she had heard music; the door to enchanted sounds had been flung wide. He wrote poems to her beauty that he recited from a seemingly infinite memory. “‘A SONG OF LADIES AND MY LADY “‘Saintly white and a lily is Mary, Margaret’s violets, sweet and shy; Green and dewy is Nellie-bud fairy, Forget-me-nots live in Gwendolen’s eye. ” Cathy hugged her.
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