” He looked into her pale blue eyes. “I’ve been thinking of you all night,” she answered. ” She was frightened—his anger always did frighten her—and in her resolve to conceal her fright she carried a queen-like dignity to what she felt even at the time was a preposterous pitch. ‘And I do understand. Perhaps I am still mad. " "Perhaps I read of it somewhere. " McClintock saw indeed—two things: that the boy had no conceit and that this odd girl would always be giving.
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