I thought it was a mirror at the first, for it was so very like myself. And she was about as capable of intelligent argument as a runaway steam-roller. And now she was discovering that even Nature was something of a liar, with her mirages and her horizons. All right, I’m coming. ” “Oh, I might,” he answered, “have gone further still. 207 She romanced a dark-haired farmer a few times, having long since forgotten his name. I’m so glad you’re not angry. CHAPTER VIII.
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