Frances Waldeaux by Rebecca Harding Davis
page 176 of 176 (100%)
page 176 of 176 (100%)
![]() | ![]() |
|
|
He ran to her, and taking her outstretched hands, kissed
them passionately. "They are mine--mine!" he whispered, and knew nothing beyond. They walked together like two happy children down the shady lane toward the golden sunset. The money was forgotten. |
|


