She was trying to adjust the wimple, dragging at it and fighting with her loosened hair. She breathed deeply. Under the plumed hat, her eye kindled. “But,” he said, “you do not blame me altogether?” She rose to her feet. ” “But, my dear Peter!” said Miss Stanley. You cannot refuse me this. It wasn’t long ago that a girl went straight from the farm to her husband, just as soon as her period came and she could make babies.
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