You will torture yourself and torture her all through life; but in the end she will pour the wine of her faith into a sound chalice. It would be easy enough for me to write an eloquent letter about something else. They are the only happy women in the Orient. She used his own gun against him, a method that was occasionally cleaner than slitting throats when she got it right. She had neither the semi-boisterousness of the average American girl nor the chilling insolence of the English. There were shadows under his eyes.
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