In a little while—to-morrow—all these tender, beautiful emotions will pass away, and I'll become what I was yesterday, a cynical, miserly old spinster. Analysis would come later, when the primitive conscience, satisfied, would cease to dominate his thought and action. "Oh, Rollo, there are so many things I don't know! But you love me, don't you?" Rollo wagged his stump violently and tried to lick her face. She foraged about in her mind for some satisfying equivalent which would express in English this gurgling drone the Chinese called a language. There'll be a fall of above twelve foot o' water, and think o' that on a night as 'ud blow a whole fleet to the devil.
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