‘Lord, no! I’ve a better regard for my skin, I thank you. We aren’t afraid; we don’t bother. Her nurse says she may live some time; but she seems to me to be sinking fast. "What is this?" she wanted to know. There lay upon this stand a book bound in limp black leather—the Holy Bible. It is so ridiculous. I want you to be my lover. For the most part these were detached people: men practising the plastic arts, young writers, young men in employment, a very large proportion of girls and women—self-supporting women or girls of the student class.
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