His salvation—if there was to be any—lay in her ignorance of life. Good night. But I dare not accept it. "I must tell you," she was saying. She had never had a pet, never had a real doll. He was interesting and inconclusive, and the original papers to which he referred her discursive were at best only suggestive. "When is he to suffer?" she demanded, fixing her large black eyes, which burnt with an insane gleam, upon him.
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