Very soon she would be able to forget it. Wood, sinking into a chair, and fanning herself violently,—"what a fluster you have put me into with your violence, to be sure! And at the very time, too, when you know I'm expecting a visit from Mr. ‘Jacques, where are you hurt?’ But as she asked the question, she saw the wound. “It is your sister and her husband,” he said. ” She shook her head deliberately, hopelessly. She had started wearing the dresses he bought for her, the white and blue shift he said, “brings out the color in your eyes”. He was caressing an idea. " "On no account," rejoined Wood peremptorily.
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