She held it away from her with an instinctive repulsion, born of her unconquerable antipathy to the touch of strangers. He sent me flowers. At once. CHAPTER IX. "If I thought he lived——" observed Wood. The tide'll bring him to us fast enough. That is why Wall Street broke your father; he was honest. But was it Faith? That is what she was this day going to find out. Anna lets the deception continue and has to bear the burden of her sister’s reputation which, in Paris at any rate, is that of being a coquette.
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