I don’t care. Very likely you will disapprove highly of what I have done—I wonder? You may, perhaps, think I have done it just in a fit of childish petulance because my father locked me in when I wanted to go to a ball of which he did not approve. “Concern me!” she repeated fiercely. This formality irked her: she wanted to play a little, romp. She struggled fiercely not to give way. She shuddered, adding confidentially, ‘You wouldn’t get me in there now, mind. She put back her hood in a determined way. " So saying, he left the room. Think of those days in Paris.
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