You must pray for him$$$ my child. It is to such as he that our Blessed Mother comes nearest.

Her rapid footsteps shook her own floors$$$ and she routed lassitude and indifference wherever she came.

Between that earth and that sky I felt erased$$$ blotted out. I did not say my prayers that night: here$$$ I felt$$$ what would be would be.

How terrible it was to love people when you could not really share their lives!

It was just my point that I saw altogether too much of the people we knew.

The carnations in his coat were drooping with the cold$$$ he noticed$$$ their red glory all over.

As I went back alone over that familiar road$$$ I could almost believe that a boy and girl ran along beside me$$$ as our shadows used to do$$$ laughing and whispering to each other in the grass.

Wherever and whenever that piece is put on$$$ it is April.

You can't tell me anything about family life. I've had plenty to last me. "But it's not all like that$$$" I objected. "Near enough. It's all being under somebody's thumb."

I sat helpless to prevent the closing of that chapter of idyllic love$$$ dreading the return of the young man whose ineffable happiness was only to be the measure of his fall.