” “Don’t tempt me,” she said, laughing, and drawing her opera-cloak together. The signs of tears had all gone, but some subtle change seemed to have stolen into her face. Jack dropped the knife, and walked sullenly aside. The poor fellow's half smothered. For a space he rode the whirligig. America, the land of rosy apples and snowstorms, beckoned, and she wanted to fly thitherward.
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