My dear! we’ve had so many moments! I used to go over the times we’d had together, the things we’d said—like a rosary of beads. Between his lectures—and primarily he was an itinerant lecturer—he manoeuvred in vain to acquire some facts regarding the girl, who she was, whence she had come; but always she countered with: "What is that?" Guileless she might be; simple, never. After all, what can it matter? It was just to make sure. .
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