‘You are really not helping matters, my friend. One’s sense of proportion, battered out of all shape in the daily life of cities, reasserts itself. I tell you that I love you, Anna, and I believe that you love me. “Yes,” she said, very faintly. “Poor Lucy!” Cathy exclaimed as she rushed in the door, umbrella sheathed. . She accomplished it with the aid of the young fellow’s hand, and stepped down into the road, glancing up at the house as she did so. \"I don't want to hurt you.
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