” She looked at him quizzically. I did so. She reminded him sometimes of the one holy and ineffable Madonna, at others of Berode, the great courtezan of her day, who had sent kings away from her doors, and had just announced her intention of ending her life in a convent. She was a large, resilient girl, with a foolish smile, a still more foolish expression of earnestness, and a throaty contralto voice. The farmer had become obsessed with her and asked her to marry. ‘I have justice. ” The girl shook her head.
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