“Heavens, look at the time!” she exclaimed. ‘You’re either mad, or in love. “Gods,” she said, at last, “I’ve done it this time!” “Well!” She took up the neat morocco purse, opened it, and examined the contents. Taking this for encouragement, her suitor proceeded still more extravagantly. “Then let me be the judge of what is best,” she answered. Then she begins to have visions of what is forbidden to all mortals: knowledge of the future. A home MAY be a sort of cage, but still—it’s a home.
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