“The real reason why I am out of place here,” she said, “is because I like men. Flesh and blood, vivid, alluring; she was no longer the symbol, therefore she had become, as in the twinkling of an eye, an utter stranger. “How’s the star?” John’s father asked. "Gracious Heaven!—is she the inmate of a mad-house?" "She is, Sir," answered the woollen-draper, sadly, "driven there by her son's misconduct. What was the old tabby at? Unaccountably embarrassed, he cleared his throat.
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