“You poor child!” he said; “don’t you see the infinite folly of these proceedings? Think! Think of the love and affection you abandon! Think of your aunt, a second mother to you. “Showtime!” Martin cried. The stretch of red dirt disappeared into a stretch of trees like Van Gogh’s painting. ” She laughed heartily, and became as suddenly grave. ’ ‘Ah, but I have a special reason for doing so this time. In that sense, my strategy worked.
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