Goodbye. And she would have to go tomorrow. ‘Dieu du ciel, for what do you take me?’ ‘I don’t know,’ he threw at her. Oh, the beautiful books! Romance, adventure, love stories! She gathered up the books in her arms and cuddled them, as a mother might have cuddled a child. But there was something in his face at once stupid and invincible that told her he would go on forcing himself upon her, that he would esteem speech with her a great point gained.
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