’ ‘I do not marry a man who makes me a threat like this,’ she flashed. The arrangement had been made by the town matchmaker, a frightening old oak of a man. I tried painting and couldn’t get on. Sc. That was the true marvel of it. She hung about his chair, followed him to the door, touched his sleeve timidly, all the while striving to pronounce the words which refused to rise to her tongue.
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