Oh, the beautiful books! Romance, adventure, love stories! She gathered up the books in her arms and cuddled them, as a mother might have cuddled a child. 58 \"Why will you not touch me?\" She cried out, sitting up, her head in her hands. I’d take it— forgive me if I seem a little urgent—as a sort of proof of friendliness. I thought that you were he. ’ ‘Well, let us leave your name for the present.
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