That is what terrified her: the consciousness that nothing in her life would be continuous, that she would no sooner form friendships (like the present) than relentless fate would thrust her into a new circle. " "You are an angel, I say," continued the poor maniac; "and my Jack would have been like you, if he had lived. Never was there another girl like this one. This was in Tennessee. ” Annabel laughed derisively and took up her book. On the one hand, she seemed to think plainly and simply, and would talk serenely and freely about topics that most women have been trained either to avoid or conceal; and on the other she was unconscious, or else she had an air of being unconscious—that was the riddle—to all sorts of personal applications that almost any girl or woman, one might have thought, would have made.
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