He hung over her—he and his loan to her and his connection with her and that terrible evening—a vague, disconcerting possibility of annoyance and exposure. " "Pshaw! you'd do as much for me any day, and think no more about it. She had never before heard the noise of firecrackers, and in the beginning the sputtering racket caused her to wince. Opening her large black eyes, she fixed them upon him for a moment with a mixture of terror and loathing, and then averted her gaze. Good words, without deeds, are rushes and reeds. “Certainly her voice is far more musical. Oh! my dear, dear son, be warned in time.
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