Excerpt from The Success of Patrick Desmond
In the little town of Redwood, in a state which is almost happy enough to have its boundary line touch the sacred soil of New York, there were two very unhappy people. One was a man of twenty-three; the other was a young gentlewoman of the same age.
For fear of disappointment, it is as well to say that there was no cause like that which made all the woes of Romeo and Juliet to make them suffer. Patrick Desmond was neither a Capulet nor a Montague, and the only person he really loved in the world was his mother. As to Eleanor Redwood, she was of a ruling family of the town - it having been named after her father, the Judge, - but as yet this had nothing to do with any affair of the heart. She was in that happy and healthy period of life when she was unconscious of possessing a heart.
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