‘I do not need for you to tell me this. Their future would be glorious; he saw it in their eyes; he saw it in the beauty of their young heads. She was taken dreadfully ill on the road, with spasms and short breath, and swoonings,—worse than ever she was before. The farmer was a widow who was slightly famous around town for his prize cows and slightly more famous for his good looks. Nothing could occupy her attention long today, unless it concerned her situation. ‘Imbecile. And I’d do it again for you if needs be. He was a man who in all things classified without nuance, and for him there were in the matter of age just two feminine classes and no more—girls and women.
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