“My dear friend,” she laughed, “not so tragic, if you please. She had animated dark blue-gray eyes under her fine eyebrows, and dark brown hair that rolled back simply and effectively from her broad low forehead. You make a game with me, imbecile. To her, marriage would be a buckler against the two evils which pursued her. All the same, I don’t admit it. “I may be leaving where I am in a few days, so very likely you will be no better off.
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