"Your sister is dead," said he, in a deep whisper. Darting down Field-lane, Jack struck into a labyrinth of streets on the left; but though he ran as swiftly as he could, he was not unperceived. At Morningside Park I feel as though all my growing up was presently to stop, as though I was being shut in from the light of life, and, as they say in botany, etiolated. "I don't know," she answered vaguely. An avid reader in many genres, I love to share books that have given me much pleasure.
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