‘But do you think I can blame you for this, Marthe?’ ‘I blame myself. I have pleaded with her—no wonder that I have pleaded with her in vain. The dress was her mother's, and she was wearing it to save a little extra money. It was the beginning of June. ‘You don’t know the whole, child. The doctor's lessons, perhaps delivered with too much serious emphasis, had destroyed that buoyant confidence in her ability to take care of herself. ” Ennison turned round sharply.
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