She was flushed, and her eyes were bright and angry; her breath came sobbing, and her hair was all abroad in wandering strands of black. " "Why, what'll you do?" demanded the turnkey. “I must live, you know. She fell with a plop onto her rear end in the mud and sat dumbly like a statue, water eddying around her. “My sister,” she murmured, “is so independent.
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