CHAPTER XXVII. They walked in silence. She had been so busy with life that, for a vast gulf of time, as it seemed, she had given no thought to those ancient, imagined things of her childhood. ‘Certainly you may have me under guard. ” She gazed at him. Beauty doesn’t mean, never has meant, anything—anything at all but you. She was so interested, and this was such a relief from the trudging anxiety of her search for work, that she went on for a whole week as if she was still living at home.
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