Slowly and ruefully she realized why marriage was so idealized among her generations of those before her. "Whose house do you want, master?" said the man, touching his hat. “I hope nothing is wrong. Blackness was beginning to consume the cornfield. Besides the table close by loaded with books, there was a central table with upright chairs around, covered in a multitude of papers, inks and quills, and assorted unrelated items such as playing cards. As she hoisted her skirts near her waist, she thought ruefully of the last time she had worn such an elaborate gown, sometime near 1910 when petticoats were still considered hip everyday garb. It’s wrong in the eyes of most people. . I want to love him. She sat on the edge of the bed overwhelmed, the roses cradled in her arms. "Why did I want it under my pillow?" he asked. “Okay, Mom.
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