She was saying good-bye to childhood and home, and her making; she was going out into the great, multitudinous world; this time there would be no returning. Very slowly, very fearfully, she turned her head. “You see, I will take your arm. . “Afterwards,” she said, “I should be perfectly content to have everything done for me. . ‘It is London’s loss, ma’am. Only her face was clear, frail and delicate, almost flower-like, with the sad haunting eyes ever watching his.
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