"I have nothing to forgive. ” She scoffed. After all, what did it matter?—it or anything else in the world? She was within reach of his arms, beautiful, compelling, herself as it seemed suddenly conscious of the light which was burning in his eyes. She was a large, resilient girl, with a foolish smile, a still more foolish expression of earnestness, and a throaty contralto voice. But for a long time, anyhow, we lovers have to be as if we were no more than friends.
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