His pale and boyish waist was nearly as slim as her own. “Dear friend,” she said, “remember that you are speaking to one who has failed in the only serious object which she has ever sought to accomplish. A child—as innocent as a child! Nothing about life; bemused by the fairy stories you writers call novels! I don't know what you have done; I don't care. Originally built, as its name imports, in a cylindrical form, like a modern Martello tower, it had undergone, from time to time, so many alterations, that its symmetry was, in a great measure, destroyed. They did not speak until he had driven past town limits and were on the highway. She could hear the bell tinkle as the horse shook its head. That’s how it takes me. ’ ‘You mean the bookroom, miss. You see, aunt, it’s the only possible way for me to get a good degree in my subjects, and father won’t hear of it. And stony broke.
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