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But when he went, and never more there came The love-sad eyes to question and entreat, The voice of music praising noble deeds, The graceful presence and the golden hair, She miss'd the boy; but scoff'd at first and said: "One misses all things, common pets one spurn'd, Good slaves and bad alike when both are gone, A small thing makes the habit of a life!" But days wore on, and adulation palled.
They saw Nanny Ainslee standing with Cynthia's son before a stone that had neither name nor date but only the love-sad words: "I Miss Thee So." But they thought nothing of it. The world was far away and they were serenely happy in a rarer one of their own. Slowly the golden afternoon was waning.
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