“Why?” He inquired. Oh, I’ve loved love, dear! I’ve loved love and you, and the glory of you; and the great time is over, and I have to go carefully and bear children, and—take care of my hair—and when I am done with that I shall be an old woman. I have a different game to play; and it'll be your own fault, if you don't come off the winner. He looked at her reproachfully.
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