” Ennison was dismayed. ‘Troops?’ ‘Go, man,’ urged the major in an undervoice. “When you married me——” Her little hand flashed out across the table. He was so depressed and disheartened that he did not then believe he would ever write again. . Women are hypocrites to the last—true only to themselves. "When is he to suffer?" she demanded, fixing her large black eyes, which burnt with an insane gleam, upon him. “And to think that it’s not a full year ago since I was a black-hearted rebel school-girl, distressed, puzzled, perplexed, not understanding that this great force of love was bursting its way through me! All those nameless discontents—they were no more than love’s birth-pangs.
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