Her eyes filled as she thought of him, the image of his laughing countenance coming into her mind, to be swiftly followed by a vision of the blood running from his cut hand. Certain simple purposes emerged from the disingenuous muddle of her feelings and desires. They talked for the better part of an hour, and at last walked together to the junction of highroad and the bridle-path. As for my past, Michelle, and Michael’s, it is a book of woeful chapters better left unread.
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