“Think of the mockery!” she said. She doesn't love you; she hasn't the least idea what it means beyond what she has read in novels. Now you will learn the result. It made me wake up, and there I lay thinking of you, spending your nights up here all alone, and no one to look after you. By and by—as the paroxysm subsided and he became motionless—she stole back to the bungalow to wait. . CHAPTER XXIII. org/license). "Keep a sharp look out, Bess.
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