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He gazed at it without emotion. It just benumbed him, soul and body. But soon the words died in his throat, and he trembled as he glared at it. There, with her auburn hair bathed in sunbeams, and glittering like the gloriola of a saint, and her face glowing doubly, with its own beauty, and the sunshine it was set in-stood his dead love. She was leaning very lightly against a white column.
It loosened his feet from the ground; he turned round, and there, her face irradiated with sunshine, and her hair glittering like the gloriola of a saint, was Margaret Brandt. She blushed and smiled and cast a look of ineffable tenderness on him, "Gerard," she murmured, "be whose thou wilt by day, but at night be mine!"
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