“Who, me? I scare you?” He asked. A piece of old blanket was fastened across her shoulders, and she had no other clothing except a petticoat. The letter began: “MY DEAREST GIRL,—I cannot let you do this foolish thing—” She crumpled notes and letter together in her hand, and then with a passionate gesture flung them into the fire. Don’t favour your father much, either, if it comes to that.
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