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I was—I was a corespondent. Her gratitude swelled within her. Suppose he stopped all her allowance, made it imperative that she should either stay ineffectually resentful at home or earn a living for herself at once. The fact that it was her trusted friend making illicit love to her remained, in spite of all her effort, an insignificant thing in her mind. But all those empty years!… My heart was hot. Joan told me it was hung somewhere in the house, only I couldn’t remember where after all this time. "Yes," answered the girl.
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