“Good evening, Dorling,” he said. Was she a fool to wish a person of a disposition altogether not pleasing to marry her? Was it not true that he made a game with her very often? Had he not been extremely interfering from the beginning? And had he not kissed her, just when— Her thoughts skidded to a stop. “Why not?” “Because you are mine. ” She roused herself from some dream at the word. She smiled encouragingly, laying aside her plate and turning her chair from the table. Don't unman him. And there was that dress of hers! She must be warned that she had been imposed upon.
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