"But we will be gone," said Anne through her tears.
She went out, closing and locking the door behind her.
Gilbert was waiting for her with a smile. The
lighthouse star was gleaming northward. The little
garden, where only marigolds still bloomed, was already
hooding itself in shadows.
Anne knelt down and kissed the worn old step which she
had crossed as a bride.
"Good-bye, dear little house of dreams," she said.
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