The wind blew in fitful gusts, and scattered the yellow leaves from the elms and horse-chestnuts. So he goes out with girls from his group instead of me. ” “Oh!” he said, in a colorless tone, and with his eyes on her face. ” To remain, she felt, was to concede everything. I’m not a lovesick boy. 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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