” There was a strange look in her face, the look of a frightened child. She saw his lips yell, “Stop. ‘That there governess didn’t like it, of course, me being the lodgekeeper’s girl, and Martha just a country wench like me. “Will they worry about you getting caught in a storm?” She asked him as she viewed black clouds floating in different directions. I had consecrated my life to His Work; and I took the primrose path. I don't know; I really don't know," she found herself repeating. “Now listen. "Yes; I know I look it," said O'Higgins, amiably. As it is, I'm not sorry for the blunder. If only sometimes he would grow angry at her, impatient! But his tender courtesy was unfailing; and under this would be the abiding bitterness of having mistaken gratitude for love.
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