Man or woman. And now the fiend Gosse had taken even that away from her. The tail-ender of this little caravan, he had been rather out of it. Kneebone—she was too well acquainted; having, more than once, been obliged to repel his advances; and, though his impertinence would have given her little concern at another season, it now added considerably to her distraction. Gosse would have killed me, and perhaps in the fight I might kill him. Only old librarians and Shirley Temples say that. That’s my point. I guess we could go for a ride. But even you cannot alter her character.
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