" "What motive can you have for so vile a deed?" asked Mrs. His face turned a dark crimson. “You see, father,” she said, “it isn’t only this affair of the dance. Wood, in equal trepidation. You are necessary to me. And her kind of love forgives everything and anything but infidelity. I have it on my conscience that I offended you—” “Offended me when?” “I’ve been haunted by the memory of you.
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