“Sure, I guess so. Forgive me?” She pleaded. “And, after all, I am just one common person!” She watched the throb of the arteries in the stem of her neck, and put her hand at last gently and almost timidly to where her heart beat beneath her breast. “Indeed, you could have no more faithful friend, you could find no one more anxious to serve you. “I could not have stayed in Paris and waited for news.
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