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The recollection of all her unhappiness, the loveless years, the unending loneliness, the injustice of it, rolled up to her lips in verbal lava. “I’ll be hanged if I do. "As long as you please, Sir," answered the matron, dropping a curtsey. I believe—I believe that I must risk it. They sat on a wooden bench that overlooked the less aromatic part of the lake, deeper and not as frequented by geese. Why was he there? why did the tempter dare to invade that sacred spot! She could not answer her own questions, but vague fearful suspicions passed through her mind.
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