‘Oh, peste,’ she cried out in distressed tones. “I like you very much John. “DON’T!” she said, and wrenched her wrist from his retaining hand. Why should you want to shield him?" "I really don't know. The girl was like some north-country woodland pool, penetrated by a single shaft of sunlight—beautifully clear in one spot and mysteriously obscured elsewhere. "You want me, then?" she said.
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