’ Hilary eyed him. “But, forgive me, you are tired. In these waters the shell has about given out. How old are you?” She asked. “You see, dear, one IS passionately anxious for something—what is it? One wants to be CLEAN. I don't know; I really don't know," she found herself repeating. Jack's complexion was that of a gipsy; Darrell's as fresh and bright as a rose. “Well anyhow—I don’t see the force of your objection, you know. Papa has sent me to be religieuse.
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