Now you can understand why every minute is a torture to me. You have changed from the veriest butterfly to a woman—you wear different clothes, you have the air of another world. Here was one that subtly mocked her. It is necessary. She saw now that it was not a dissipated face; it was as smooth and unlined as polished marble, which at present it resembled. “Oh, Lord!” she said, discovering what she was up to, and dropped lightly from the fence upon the turf and went on her way toward the crest. . "Are you hurt, Thames?" asked Jack, anxiously. And probably the girl would wear herself out, too.
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