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“Quite right,” she said. She gurgled. Who was he to tread on her dreams? She had heroworshipped an unscrupulous adventurer, who had not hesitated to impose on her youth and her ignorance. "And, oh! forgive me, though I can never forgive myself, for the misery I have caused you. ‘Some ineligible that your parents would not tolerate, I suppose. ‘Don’t want it to break out bleeding again. ‘They eloped. They found a cosy little table in the tea-rooms, and everything was delicious. They leave them out of novels—these incompatibilities. The thin stream of blood on which her eyes were fastened with a nameless horror reached almost to her feet.
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