” She looked down at the flowers, still in shock, and gently laid them over her arm like a Miss America candidate practicing a crowning ceremony at a pajama party. You know nothing of life, nothing of its dangers, nothing of its possibilities. Her aunt was a long time before she answered. “You don’t propose, do you,” she said quietly, “that I should take this man for my husband?” “You can drive him away,” Annabel cried. "When a man reaches the lowest scale through drink, we call him a beachcomber. You wore a blue dress with your hair unbound, and never had I seen a maid so glorious with eyes so blue or a smile so bright. I could not have spoken to her. “Too greasy for me.
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