‘Laisse-moi. Wood. Silly woman!. . ” She spoke with a certain asperity. Jonathan, however, still lingered. “I murdered them, John. That world of fine printed cambrics and escorted maidens, of delicate secondary meanings and refined allusiveness, presented itself to her imagination with the brightness of a lost paradise, as indeed for many women it is a lost paradise. I'll take them back with me. It isn't for their sakes, it's for your own. So she took up Stevenson and began to read aloud.
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