I was mean to him. She could run away from him, if she wished, as she had run away from her father; she could carry out the original adventure. ” He drank. Then a bit of colour flowed into his sunken white cheeks. There’s something—puppyish in a man’s usual attitude to women. It's mighty lonesome down there for a man bred to cities. A crutch, with a silver handle, stood by her side, proving the state of extreme debility to which she was reduced. There's something queer about that young man; but we'll never be able to find out what it is.
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