“You poor child!” he said; “don’t you see the infinite folly of these proceedings? Think! Think of the love and affection you abandon! Think of your aunt, a second mother to you. " "Is the poor lady alive?" asked Mrs. The air was sharp and bracing, and the leaves which had taken their autumnal tints were falling from the trees. Gerald grinned. He liked to draw her in, and she did her best to talk. She was naturally weaker, she would tire quicker, and she need not concern herself with the peculiar obligations of honour obtaining amongst gentlemen. “I’ll run, too,” she volunteered.
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