I won’t tolerate any foreign tongue in this house, least of all that confounded French. “Don’t!” she said, weakly, as he had bent down and put one arm about her and seized her hands with his disengaged hand and kissed her—kissed her almost upon her lips. It was an unspoken curfew in the Beck house on week nights. Her eyes travelled about the room as if in appeal to the very chairs. " "Won't my life do as well as his?" supplicated the other.
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