There was a wild light in her eye, and her straight hair was out demonstrating and suffragetting upon some independent notions of its own. 58 \"Why will you not touch me?\" She cried out, sitting up, her head in her hands. Was there ever such madness?” “I am afraid that I don’t understand,” Ennison answered. I might have known it. “Dear old daddy!” she said, and was amazed to find herself shedding tears.
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