Later, at the bottom of that envelope I found a letter. She felt surges of longing escape every corner of her flesh. “There, there, now. “But I must, I will,” he answered fiercely. Here was an appalling fact: all her previous loneliness had been trifling beside that which now encompassed her and would for years to come. I’m so glad you’re not angry. Only one thing emerged with any reasonable clarity in her mind at once, and that was that unless she was saved from drowning by an unmarried man, in which case the ceremony is unavoidable, or totally destitute of under-clothing, and so driven to get a trousseau, in which hardship a trousseau would certainly be “ripping,” marriage was an experience to be strenuously evaded. She was a merry creature, it is true, and quite beautiful.
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