"Because it's not like you," was her answer. Up to dinner yesterday I did not expect to come to Canton. She would be surrendering to all her impulses—particularly the good impulses—many of which society had condemned long since because they entailed too much trouble. She had a vision of policemen, reproving magistrates, a crowded court, public disgrace. He beheld a tall gaunt man, his brown face corrugated like a winter's road, grim, stony. .
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