He watched her constantly, trapped her in corners and slept with his arms locking her like a human cage. But women—women as a rule don’t throw themselves into things like that. ” He declared that no book could be satisfactory that left a bad taste in the mouth, however much it seized and interested the reader at the time. “I can’t endure it,” she said. Her eyes filled as she thought of him, the image of his laughing countenance coming into her mind, to be swiftly followed by a vision of the blood running from his cut hand. ‘Lawks-a-mussy! It’s Miss Mary.
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