82 She was putting a manuscript away, gingerly locking its heavy tooled cover, but it was a huge, awkward tome. What!— you know so little of that child? She ran away from you. He was the true optimist; and that he should proceed, serenely unconscious of reefs and storms, she accepted the double buffets. She bussed his cheek with her small lips as he stood by the open door, and exited alone towards the sleeping house. He was a wonderful little creature with a perfect tiny face, mottled pink cheeks, and eyes brighter than May.
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