She had recourse to the torn off strip of petticoat again, and blowing her nose with an air of determination, sniffed back the tears. "It was silly. "Yes; I know I look it," said O'Higgins, amiably. ” “Two years ago,” she answered. Why do I want him so badly? Why do I want him, and think about him, and fail to get away from him? “It isn’t all of me. Like the nuns, she hardly ever looked in a mirror. You forget all the mass of training and tradition and instinct that go to make him a tolerable master. No hair to fall awry, no powder to displace, no ruffles to crush; men are lucky. After all, where prayer fails, a pistol is bound to succeed.
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