The last thing that she remembered was her eyes crossing as she tried to focus upon the crunch of leaves as she lay heaving upon them, dampening them further with the outpouring of her sweat as it leaked from her clothing. “Remember,” he said, “you are not by any means a dying man now, but you’ll never pull through if you don’t husband your strength. “Please stop by. You’d think he wanted to meet the wretch again. “And, after all, I am just one common person!” She watched the throb of the arteries in the stem of her neck, and put her hand at last gently and almost timidly to where her heart beat beneath her breast. Even that he was an interfering person, if he walked through that door this moment, she would fling herself at him and weep all over his chest. “Oh dear, I’m not dressed. Of course I tripped right when I went to school at seven in the morning, so I sat in the Nurse’s office for six hours until my Dad got off work! It hurt, too, and they aren’t allowed to give children painkillers. We LIKED each other well enough. At night she would turn it in her fingers like a rosary bead. \" \"Nah, he's probably a cool guy, seems laid back enough. She would never return to her father; that resolution was final.
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