‘Damn you, what’s the matter with you?’ he snapped in frustration. ” He left the room, and she stood motionless, with flaming cheeks, listening to his retreating footsteps. “Does he ever ask about me?” She asked, feeling like a cuckolded old maid. ‘And I have a very good mind to kill you. Why? What is she to you?” “I was there by accident,” Ennison answered. ’ ‘A mistake, I agree. The poet's appearance altogether was highly prepossessing.
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