“Yes,” she answered, looking away. She could hear the bell tinkle as the horse shook its head. She took refuge in beating her pillow and inventing insulting epithets for herself. The spinsters—who on the morrow would vanish out of the girl's life for ever—had already left their imprint upon her imagination. She read for half an hour, then closed the book because Spurlock appeared to have fallen asleep. Will you stand by and watch me?" The contents of the trunk only thickened the fog. “Mine is a primitive and unstudied manner.
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