“Don’t you know, child, that this is torture for me? What in God’s name more can you have to tell me?” Her face had become almost like a marble image. The girl wished that she had come afoot, despite the knowledge that she would have suffered many inconveniences, accidental and intentional jostling, insolence and ribald jest. Parbleu, but she was a fool. Spurlock. All I can say is, it's well meant; and I may add, I'd have made it five minutes ago, if you'd given me the opportunity. We felt like thieves. The noise was raucous. ’ The lashes fluttered demurely.
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