CHAPTER XII. Mrs. She so wanted to keep her memory of him fresh, so wanted to memorize his kisses and to conjure his embrace someday when he was mere dust in the ground. ’ ‘Yes, but I do not wish to have a mystery. ‘Because you are a bête, and a pig, and imbecile. ” “Such independence,” he answered quickly, “is a vice. It would surely be only common politeness to drop her a hint—a fellow countrywoman too. ” She said. " "Pshaw! you'd do as much for me any day, and think no more about it.
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