“Now you look happy. The young man's imagination suddenly pictured the man as a rock, loosed from its ancient bed, crumbling as it fell. " "You have always spoken it?" "Yes; except for some native. I needed a man the worst kind of way—a man I could keep for at least six months. I am afraid because I love you, so that the mere thought of failure hurts. "A bad girl?" She put the question as she would have put any question—leveleyed and level-toned. A fortnight passed, then a month.
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