She sat on the edge of the bed —the wardress was too busy with the flood of arrivals that day to discover that she had it down—and her skin was shivering from the contact of these garments. . \"Why weren't you there?\" She asked Mike. She did not open the Bible but laid it on the edge of the bed, knelt and rested her forehead upon the worn leather cover. "Who's there?—Pshaw! it's only the wind. But here I am to draw upon.
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