His perception of her personal beauty deepened and quickened with each encounter. “You go home,” he said, at parting; “you go home. “Hola, Michelle. “I cannot keep silence any longer. I undid his coat, and I took it from his pocket. And I've made up my mind that a husband ought to believe only half that he hears, and nothing that he sees. Near the door stood a pile of deal planks, behind which the carpenter ensconced himself in order to reconnoitre, unobserved, the proceedings of his idle apprentice. What else could he do? You can’t kick up a scene on the spur of the moment in the face of such conflicting values as he had before him. She was not squeamish—although the sight of the sergeant’s ominous preparations had severely tried her fortitude—but Kimble’s white face plagued her conscience.
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