But some day she would find a place to love: there would be rosy apples on the boughs, and there would be flurries of snow blowing into her face. Many of the soldiers dismounted, and called for drink. "He hears me not! he's gone!" she added, as the door was opened and shut with violence; "something tells me I shall never see him again!" When her father, a moment afterwards, issued from the parlour to ascertain the cause of the noise, he found her seated on the stairs, in an agony of grief.
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