The spinsters—who on the morrow would vanish out of the girl's life for ever—had already left their imprint upon her imagination. In the retrospect she was amazed to think how things had gone to pieces, for at the outset she had been quite prepared to go home again upon terms. She savored the sweetness of his lips, all of his great youth and passion and longed for his innocence, his complete lack of the knowledge of terrible things. Time was moving so fast, she could no longer count the days since Gosse had come to her with his preposterous suggestion at the Coq d’Or, where they were staying and where he had robbed her and left her and Martha to their fate. The robbers proceeded singly, and kept on the grass skirting the road, so that no noise was made by their horses' feet. . " "Dear me!" sympathised Mrs. And by degrees, perhaps, that maiden distrust of yours that makes you shrink from my kisses, will vanish.
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