Slowly and ruefully she realized why marriage was so idealized among her generations of those before her. Its architecture was richly ornamental, and resembled the style of a triumphal entrance to a capital, rather than a dungeon having battlements and hexagonal towers, and being adorned on the western side with a triple range of pilasters of the Tuscan order, amid the intercolumniations of which were niches embellished with statues. “And where,” he asked, “are my rivals?” “Deserters,” she answered, laughing. Glad did I live and gladly die, And I laid me down with a will. “After all, there are great things left in the world for you. ‘You have said you do not wish to marry me,’ she accused. She released her clutch on it as, dizzy with exhaustion, she leaned against the back of the pew and closed her eyes, her fingers grasping out automatically for support.
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