Curiosity held her by one hand, urging her to recklessness, and caution held her by the other. Had he been sick in the mind when he had done this damnable thing? It did not seem possible, for he could recall clearly all he had said and done; there were no blank spaces to give him one straw of excuse. You creep around in a nun’s habit, peering into a private ballroom. The Storm VII.
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