” “But it is too late,” she declared. They talked for the better part of an hour, and at last walked together to the junction of highroad and the bridle-path. She would never look squarely at these dream forms that mocked the social order in which she lived, never admit she listened to the soft whisperings in her ear. She put her mouth on him. CHAPTER XII. Life is so good. Horrible details recurred to her.
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