He had heard me sing—the fool thought himself in love with me. I am not sure, but I believe that he has just thought of something. A slight rain fell at the time; and a few leaves, caught by the eddies, whirled around. I found him once in my rooms, and I believe that he had a key to my front door. But then, because my papa had no money, you understand, he sent me to a convent. On coming to himself, he found he had been wrapped in a blanket and put to bed with a couple of hot bricks to his feet.
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