At three o'clock this afternoon Evelyn Wastneys died. I am Evelyn Wastneys, and I died, standing at the door of an old country home in Ireland, with my hands full of ridiculous little silver shoes and horseshoes, and a Paris hat on my head, and a trembling treble voice whispering in my ear:-- "Good-bye, Evelyn darling--darling! Thank you--thank you for all you have been to me! Oh, Evelyn, _promise_ you will not be unhappy!"…
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