"Don't weep, my love," replied the lady, straining him still more closely to her. “Loneliness,” she said, “is a luxury which I never permit myself. His heart beat wildly and he was afraid lest the strain be too much; but the girl shook her head and smiled and pointed to the top of the mountain. "Begone! or I fire!" he cried. When she came to, she was lying with her head in Martha’s lap, and a livid bruise was forming at the point of a raging headache.
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