“Don’t you understand, Nigel,” she said softly, “that it was precisely for this I have worked so hard. It was a perfect windless spring day, a Sunday. "Be so good as to let Caliban out, Mr. Now, come along, gem'men, and I'll show you some precious sport. And I’ve read, and thought, and guessed, and looked—until MY innocence—it’s smirched. I guess they were bad all the time. And here she was—in a mess because it had been impossible for her to avoid leaning upon another man.
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