Manning, I do not really want to marry. You know—I wish I could roll my little body up small and squeeze it into your hand and grip your fingers upon it. “I do not know you,” she said coldly. She looked at it with a little shudder, but she made no motion to take it. When he begins to notice things, I want you to trap his interest, to amuse him, keep his thoughts from reverting to his misfortunes. John turned toward the short staircase as she alit upon the first creaky step.
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