(106)
around me, like one alienated from common perceptions.
But I was young at that time, and the impression became gradually weakened, as I mingled in the business of life. It is now ten years since these events took place, and I sometimes think of them as unreal. Allan Clare was a dear friend to me—but there are times, when Allan and his Sister, Margaret and her Grandaughter, appear like personages of a dream—an idle dream.
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