‘Alors, I see it. Recurrently she heard: "I don't know; I really don't know. She thought me— filthy. She held it away from her with an instinctive repulsion, born of her unconquerable antipathy to the touch of strangers. She dreaded living off the land again, like an animal, as she had done for dozens of years at a stretch. As time wore on, and they did not return, Mr. ‘What in the world is that?’ demanded Miss Froxfield. The girl’s eyes never left his face. ” Chapter XIX “THIS IS NOT THE END” “I said some afternoon,” she remarked, throwing open her warm coat, and taking off her gloves, “but I certainly did not mean to-day. His little doll.
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