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Some had the dignity and the aloofness of a rock in the sea; and others were as the polished pebbles on the sands—one saw the difference of pebble from pebble only by close scrutiny. "But be prudent, my angel. “Why did you ever let me love you? Why did you ever let me peep through the gates of Paradise? Oh! my God! I don’t begin to feel and realize this yet. You're an angel of goodness. \" That again. He did not look at her directly, though she fantasized that she could 141 feel his stares from the back of the class on occasion. I’m behaving shockingly, I know. His stories had enchanted her, even if in some deep corner of her heart she guessed they were not entirely true.
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