“Forgive me,” he said. ” “And mine,” murmured his companion, with the smile still lingering upon his lips. Only au revoir. A single blanket constituted his sole covering at night. We shall be torn in pieces if we are discovered. Pure luck! If the boy had grown a moustache or a beard, a needle in the haystack would have been soft work. “I wonder,” she began, presently, “why I love you—and love you so much?.
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