“For your own sake, let me beg of you not to stay for a moment. Would you stand by me—and her?” “My dear Nigel!” she exclaimed. “But you yourself,” she exclaimed, glancing into his face, “you too look tired. She battled with a deadly faintness, and she tottered rather than walked back to her seat. “Or I know another one who wears cologne. She felt she had to go on. “I have loved you,” he was saying, “ever since you sat on that gate and talked.
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