She ought to be softened and tender and confidential at this phase of her life. ‘Grace à vous, I am compelled to rescue myself. I somehow understood. "No, I shan't," replied Rachel, saucily. The last thing that she remembered was her eyes crossing as she tried to focus upon the crunch of leaves as she lay heaving upon them, dampening them further with the outpouring of her sweat as it leaked from her clothing. She colored faintly.
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