“Why do you hate me again, my love?” He seemed to brighten, feeding upon the intensity of her emotion. “But,” he said, “you do not blame me altogether?” She rose to her feet. " "Here!" ejaculated Wood, with a look of alarm. And to think that man got it all out of the poorest little love-story for a respectable titled lady! Have you read of it?” “Never. ” Sir John’s reply was incoherent. \"Thanks for walking me home. ” Michelle replied. She found herself again in the presence of some element in life about which she had been trained not to think, about which she was perhaps instinctively indisposed to think; something which jarred, in spite of all her mental resistance, with all her preconceptions of a clean and courageous girl walking out from Morningside Park as one walks out of a cell into a free and spacious world.
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