" "I promise to ask no more. ‘Like a vision she were. Instead, they lived a Bohemian existence, moving from patron to patron, city to city. The arrangement had been made by the town matchmaker, a frightening old oak of a man. If ever I did meet a man I could love, I should love him”—her voice dropped again—“platonically. Jolly hard life for a girl, getting a living. ’ ‘And she’d be right,’ Martha said severely.
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