She was perhaps three-and-twenty, and very pink and healthy-looking, showing a great deal of white and rounded neck above her business-like but altogether feminine blouse, and a good deal of plump, gesticulating forearm out of her short sleeve. Why were you following Valade?’ She shrugged and turned away, moving as if to seek escape among the bookshelves all about one corner of the room. I once might have married you for your beauty,—now I marry you for your wealth. Wood, delighted at the idea. Think better of it.
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