“Loneliness,” she said, “is a luxury which I never permit myself. Kneebone assured her that he did say so; and, as a further proof of his sincerity, squeezed her hand very warmly under the table. “What are you doing?” he asked. She became angry with herself. ” She muttered some unlady-like comment upon herself under her breath and engaged in secret additions. Day after day she pounded him with curses, saying that her mother looked down on him from Heaven and sent a curse, to which he laughed.
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