Woman's love of silk is not set by fashion; it is bred in the bone; and somewhere, somehow, a woman will have her bit of silk. "I can't say," answered the fellow; "but I'll inquire from the sexton, William Morgan. ’ Gerald sat back in his chair, thinking hard. So I ran away, blindly, knowing nothing of the world outside. The winters were terrible in cold climates, and she often had been driven to dig herself large underground pits where she waited it out like a mole in the cold months.
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