You have converted me to—Lester Ward! You are my dear friend, you are a slip of a girl, but there are moments when my head has been on your breast, when your heart has been beating close to my ears, when I have known you for the goddess, when I have wished myself your slave, when I have wished that you could kill me for the joy of being killed by you. "Gone," replied the wounded man. It came into her head with real emotional force that this must be some particularly fantastic sort of dream. "What has caused this quarrel, Thames?" asked the little girl, anxiously.
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