“I have stood it for a month, Anna,” he exclaimed. It frightened her to behold her heart and mind thus laid bare; but the chapter following would reassure her. A young man was playing the banjo. Manning loved her presented itself to her bloodlessly, stilled from any imaginative quiver or thrill of passion or disgust. "Whatever your intelligence may be I will strive to bear it. ” It was a long, meandering talk, stupid, shameful, and unavoidable.
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