I could never have talked to you like this, forgetting everything that parts us, forgetting even your age, if I did not love you utterly. If you love me, do not allude to this subject again. She was not afraid exactly, but there was that about her loneliness to-night she distrusted. It presented itself in the likeness of a great, gray, dull world—a brutal, superstitious, confused, and wrong-headed world, that hurt people and limited people unaccountably. "Oh God! she is dying," exclaimed Jack in a voice suffocated by emotion.
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