She began to exercise those lures which were bred in her bone—the bones of all women. “You are very kind to think of it,” she said, “but—don’t you think perhaps—that I had better not?” He smiled indulgently. You'll never be guided by me—never!" "Indeed, my love, you're entirely mistaken," returned the carpenter, endeavouring to deprecate his wife's rising resentment by the softest looks, and the meekest deportment. “What about blood banks? Have you ever tried them?” “I don’t just take blood, John. It was an awful moment—so awful, that every other feeling except deep interest in the scene seemed suspended. 4. “Do you know,” she confessed, “I never thought of that?” He looked at her as though doubting even now whether she could possibly be in earnest. Diane spoke first. “I remember when you walked me home.
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