“My sister and I,” she said slowly, “have seen very little of each other lately. Come back—you must come back. All her tender lures, inherent and acquired, had shattered themselves futilely against the reserve he had set between them. "You mean, it doesn't matter?" "Poor Hoddy! When you were ill in Canton, out of your head, you babbled words. "What's that?" ejaculated the ruffian, glancing uneasily towards the window. The first peg was torture. ‘It is pretty. The spinsters—who on the morrow would vanish out of the girl's life for ever—had already left their imprint upon her imagination.
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