I am sorry, I say weakly.
You neednt be sorry, now.
It is only—
You must be strong. I rong, before.
It is only—
But, only ? Only t s , sed toot s me soup—clear soup—instead of an egg, and smiled to see me drink it. t shinks me good . . .
Riccen to me, Maud, igen! If it
must be ced, and robbed of y, for us to be free. the girl
tors ake, — ?
I begin to fear t, after all, I t for it...quot; Youve a , instead, for little fingersmitten ten? Do you suppose yourself anyto t? You oo long among your uncles books. Girls love easily, t is t of t o be ten.
one groell ; You s tell ing my iffening. t is ao me. tell Briar for good. My uncle s care reats me for it.
I s tell , tell o be my wife; and so make good our escape, as you promised.
I turn my face from else sill iger anot s my ear.
to c disturb us. No her know I have you . . .
and pressure of and and let akes one my and lifts my arm. , I flinc. Excuse my le way along my s ouc of his
ngue; and I saste—o knoands and cisfaction, thinking me his.
For o myself. o o takes my cloak, takes my ser all- sands fro tly, across is all s I see it, and my gives a plunge—t caving, or dropping, t , so muc fear, or madness. I curn and stretc tudied gestures I ously, so long. Is t I, of all people, s kno I t desire smaller, neater; I supposed it bound to its oaste is bound to to ts and ins me, like a sickness. It covers me, like skin.
I t see it. No must colour or mark me—I t must mark me crimson, like paint marks t red points, tures. I am afraid, t nigo undress before o lie at o sleep. I am afraid I urn and touch her ...
But after all, if sremble, if s beat remble for ing, still ing. Next day I take o my mot and gaze at tone, t I so neat and free from blemiso smas imes—t my mot I migo Sue: Do you kno did it!—and it is an effort, to keep te of triumph from my voice.
S catc. Sco o comfort me—any