I consented to become Mrs. Gay," he added, turning to the poet. But women—women as a rule don’t throw themselves into things like that. Their talk drifted to the beauty of music, and they took that up again at tea-time. She had to resist an impulse of sheer terror, to run out after them and give in. "No prize shall indushe me to enter dat horrid plashe again. “My friend,” she said, “I have been your pupil for two years.
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