“I”—he seemed to have a difficulty with the word—“I love you. " "What for? What do you want of them?" "Why, they are … yours. “I am sorry. Reaction set in and she leapt at him, beating at his chest with her fists. “Of course!” he said. Her brown curls were pulled tight in a severe chignon. Somehow to-night—I don’t know. I’ll give you grandpére!’ ‘But milor’—’ ‘Pardon!’ No longer master of his actions, the general lurched forward, waving his cane. I made it a point to bring beachcombers to the house to fill her with horror of mankind. "I knew it.
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