“Can you spare me a moment?” he asked. His little doll. “Yes. She came in while he was still in the throes, conviction battling with commonsense, his own apprehension. She felt her heartbeat accelerate until it was pounding her chest. And, fearing you might not come to me, I forced my way hither, even with certainty of discomposing your friends. He would condemn her to the vengeance of the mob all for refusing to marry him. He was an imaginative young man.
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