When she got back to her questions again in the monotonous high-road that led up the hill, she found the image of Mr. It had gone with the rest. Here she would find candy awaiting her, bits of ribbon, books. They stopped talking, except to each other. The thing rankled in her mind night and day. ” “It’s gone. He can't be far off. He felt her warm breath upon his cheek, the perfume of her hair as she leaned over him. " "I'm sorry I can't indulge you," replied her master, a little piqued. Why should I?” “At last,” he murmured, “at last I have found you.
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