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The Wind in the rose-bush and other stories of the supernatural by Mary Eleanor Wilkins Freeman
page 42 of 171 (24%)
She flushed a little, and her placid mouth widened at the corners.
She was susceptible to praise.

"Our thoughts to-day ought to belong to the one of us who will
NEVER grow older," said Caroline in a hard voice.

Henry looked at her, still smiling. "Of course, we none of us
forget that," said he, in a deep, gentle voice, "but we have to
speak to the living, Caroline, and I have not seen Emma for a long
time, and the living are as dear as the dead."

"Not to me," said Caroline.

She rose, and went abruptly out of the room again. Rebecca also
rose and hurried after her, sobbing loudly.

Henry looked slowly after them.

"Caroline is completely unstrung," said he. Mrs. Brigham rocked.
A confidence in him inspired by his manner was stealing over her.
Out of that confidence she spoke quite easily and naturally.

"His death was very sudden," said she.

Henry's eyelids quivered slightly but his gaze was unswerving.

"Yes," said he; "it was very sudden. He was sick only a few
hours."

"What did you call it?"
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