It was a perfect windless spring day, a Sunday. V. He was—a millionaire. In his youth he must have been a remarkably handsome man, for he is still handsome. For a time they were very difficult. Blest with a fond husband, surrounded by every comfort, you have never been assailed by the horrible temptations to which misery has exposed me. I have often felt before that it is only when one has nothing to say that one can write easy poetry.
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