“Well?” “You and all the rest of them are always lamenting that I do not marry. “Yes. But it would serve. The one I have is a duplicate. He leaned towards her as though anxious to see more of her face than that faint delicate profile gleaming like marble in the uncertain light. But a time will come (and that before long,) when our sex will assert its superiority; and, when we have got the upper hand, let 'em try to subdue us if they can. ‘Well, what was I to think, miss? Martha never wrote nothing about you, and I did ask.
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