HER FATHER’S DAUGHTER
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and groom who walked swiftly in front. Isabella’s hand was in her husband’s and sometimes she could not see the moonlit hills for a mist of glorified tears.
“David,” she whispered, as he helped her over the fence, “how can you ever forgive me?”
“There’s nothing to forgive,” he said. “We're only just married. Who ever heard of a bride-groom talking of forgiveness? Everything is beginning over new for us, my girl.”
