If I surprised her, if I saw her alone, I might make her understand. What better way to be rid of him? ‘Jacques,’ she uttered urgently. She’s hated me for no apparent reason ever since Fourth Grade. I must go and dress at once. “But why,” he said in the gasping voice of one subduing an agony, and looked at her from under a pain-wrinkled brow, “why did you not tell me this before?” “I didn’t know—I thought I might be able to control myself.
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