” “Of course,” his friend answered. It was really very jolly to talk to a man in this way—who saw the woman in her and did not treat her as a child. ’ ‘Take care,’ warned Hilary, his eyes on his improvised bandage. Her concluding paragraph was, on the whole, perhaps, hardly starchy enough. Fearful that she had given herself away, she sank back down onto her stool. The spirit I drink may be poison,—it may kill me,—perhaps it is killing me:—but so would hunger, cold, misery,—so would my own thoughts.
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