"Farewell!" cried Jack, breaking from them, and rushing down the street. “Couldn’t we three go out and have some coffee somewhere? The thought of that drawing-room paralyses me. I am sorry to seem to hurt you, but all I say is for your good. You know—if you want freedom. Blotted out—Love! With infinite care, through nearly a thousand pages, her father had obliterated the word Love. “A man like that taints a girl by looking at her, by his mere conversation.
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