“You are not boring me,” she said, “but I would rather talk of something else. Tell me, what are these bananas and nuts for?” “Dessert. Will you forgive me—if I say no more?” She looked at him with perplexed, earnest eyes. " Soon after this Mrs. We, ourselves, are scarcely the same we were twelve years ago. He was and always would be dramatizing his emotions; perpetually he would be confounding his actual with his imaginary self. I am no exception.
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