It was an early Sunday morning, and the sun was shining brightly in cloudless azure. The air was laden with a pleasant perfume, and Edith and Marian, out for an early constitutional, stepped along briskly towards Wentworth Park. Many boats were moored along the shores of the harbor, and some were gliding lazily across the water. On the piers and wharves the ragged street urchins were fishing, while a favored few were paddling about in dinghies.
The girls entered the park and sat down for a respite before turning back. The park was almost deserted, save for an old lady shimmering in a mass of black beads; a pair of lovers in a secluded nook; and a pale- faced student, in spectacles, poring over a book.
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