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Online Full Text: |
Stanford Digital Repository
|
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Series: |
New York Weekly
—
v. 23 no. 43
— page 3 |
Subject / Tag: |
Sketch |
Part of: |
New York Weekly, v. XXIII, no. 43, September 10, 1868 (Issue) |
Author: |
Graves, Helen Forrest
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Date: |
September 10, 1868 |
First Sentence: |
The snow was falling like a myriad flight of tiny, white-winged birds, the December blast howled mourn fully through the twilight streets, when the lights were beginning to shine out, here and there solitary beacons of fire, and Grace and Myra Payne were sitting before the grate in their cosey, well-used sitting room, talking. |
Last Sentence: |
"Who would have thought it, ten years ago!" sighed Myra! |
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