Why? If she had put the query to herself, she could not have answered it. To her, marriage would be a buckler against the two evils which pursued her. Top-side insurance people. The prostitute’s attack was predictable, typical. Oh! and love—love! We’ve had so splendid a time, and fought our fight and won. Then she called a hansom and drove home. I don’t think of you as a kid. The tears were welling over now, but her voice was steady. “Then let me be the judge of what is best,” she answered.
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