The man was sitting at a table, reading from a book. His handsome face
shone with pleasure, and his eyes often left the book to look at the
small white hand that lay on his shoulder. The girl stood behind him,
bending over to help him. Her face—it was fortunate he could not see her
face, or he would never have been able to concentrate on his studies. I
could see it, and I was bitterly sorry that I had thrown away my chance
of seeing that beauty every day of my life.
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盛娟惠