A sarcastic smile seemed to play upon the chief-taker's lips; and abashed at his own irresolution, the lad went on. “But you do not know,” she whispered, “whether I am a married woman or not. You know—I wish I could roll my little body up small and squeeze it into your hand and grip your fingers upon it. G. ” He rowed a stroke and watched the swirl of water from his oar broaden and die away. She cut a deep gash into her own arm with a steel screw, loosing drops of her own blood onto the floorboards.
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