I still have a cross stitch she made for me of a little fairy sitting on a daffodil. But if she smiled at all it was with her eyes. “And, after all, I am just one common person!” She watched the throb of the arteries in the stem of her neck, and put her hand at last gently and almost timidly to where her heart beat beneath her breast. They had shared almost seventy five wonderful years there in nearly utter seclusion before it came time to move on. D. ” “Not quite so easily as it explains an insect alighting on colored paper. .
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