” She spoke with a certain asperity. The letter began: “MY DEAREST GIRL,—I cannot let you do this foolish thing—” She crumpled notes and letter together in her hand, and then with a passionate gesture flung them into the fire. ‘That fellow of yours is a deal better, by the by. Anna lets the deception continue and has to bear the burden of her sister’s reputation which, in Paris at any rate, is that of being a coquette. ‘But then again, possibly not. She withdrew her mouth and patted his penis dry with the bottom of his shirttails. Sometimes they marry well. ‘I do not know.
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