I can’t love you. The dress was her mother's, and she was wearing it to save a little extra money. “Mary! What’s going on! Why are you crying?!” He commanded an answer in a worried and slightly irritated tone. “On or about the day you receive this letter, Anna, the six months will be up. ’ ‘For God’s sake,’ protested his junior. We’re different. She had, it was true, accepted doubtfully the pen he had offered. Her aunt leaped unhappily to the thought of penitence.
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