"How goes it?" he began, heartily. A fever of shame ran through her being. ” “That is why they hissed me, then?” “Of course. The spinsters—who on the morrow would vanish out of the girl's life for ever—had already left their imprint upon her imagination. Remember, in your story—look at it, scattered everywhere!—that line? We arrive at true happiness only through labyrinths of misery.
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