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“You’re a student, perhaps?” said the tall woman. He was brooding over her, she could sense it, and the shadowy circles around his lovely dark eyes bespoke a terrible ongoing insomnia. ’ He called through the library door. It seemed to her that it was her duty to get up and clamor to go home to her room, to protest against his advances as an insult. CHAPTER IV. In a little while—to-morrow—all these tender, beautiful emotions will pass away, and I'll become what I was yesterday, a cynical, miserly old spinster.
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