But we can’t help noticing. I’ll do it. I was happy to oblige them, I had grown sick of the heat of the south and all the miserable sun. She intercepted the glance the spinsters exchanged, and immediately sensed that she had said too much. And through it all, like a golden thread on a piece of tapestry, weaving in and out of the patterns, the unspoken longing for love. We shall see. Afterward she wanted to get her letter to her father back in order to read it over again, and, if it tallied with her general impression of it, re-write it. I’d take it— forgive me if I seem a little urgent—as a sort of proof of friendliness. Oh, cuss it!” “Eh?” “He said I would. Unless he deserts the girl, he won't be so hard to find as formerly. Only she was conscious of an unfamiliar and wonderful emotion.
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