Stay me with flagons, comfort me with apples, for I am sick of love. The young male, as she had actually seen him, had been of the sailor type, hard-bitten, primordial, ruthless. ” Anna laughed softly. I don't want her hurt. The farmer was a widow who was slightly famous around town for his prize cows and slightly more famous for his good looks. Without care he will die. “More than that, he arrived to-day at the boarding-house where I am staying, greeted me with a theatrical start, and claimed me—as his wife. The period of repression was over. It is foolish, she murmured to herself, foolish. “Maternity,” she said, “has been our undoing. She ignored it until it repeated itself.
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