We men are like children. He touched her hand, soft and cool to his fingers—she turned at once to look at him. But I must—I ought—” “I MUST talk about this. ” “I thought I explained—” “I don’t think you can have heard me,” said her father; “I have told you to come home. Wood turned to look at him. "I am twenty," said the girl. “It is in your hands from now on, Shar.
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