" "Well," said Sister Prudence, "remember, I tried to save you some future heartaches. Afterward, one afternoon, he hovered about her, and came and sat beside her and talked of beauty and the riddle of beauty for some time. It is foolish, she murmured to herself, foolish. Not much to his surprise, Jack Kimble shook his head. . . “I hate this!” Lucy accused him, pointing to the Michelle. His salvation—if there was to be any—lay in her ignorance of life.
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