” She finished her breakfast and strolled out across the garden with the letters still in her hand. Wrenching his hands from her shoulders, she thrust them away and leapt up from the chair. "I cannot remain here long. “You poor child!” he said; “don’t you see the infinite folly of these proceedings? Think! Think of the love and affection you abandon! Think of your aunt, a second mother to you. His quiet, kindly smile implied his serene disbelief in any confessible thing. ‘You cannot read my mind at all, monsieur. “A confusion of motives—that’s what I am!.
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