“Look here, daddy,” she said, in a tone of great reasonableness, “I MUST go to that dance, you know. " "Not at fisticuffs, perhaps," interrupted Jack, fiercely; "but I've my knife. God gives us an equal chance; but we make ourselves. " "One word before I go," urged Blueskin. The cold air gave her gooseflesh under her red brocade dress as she slipped outside. She would often steal away to tryst with him in the orchard, even now she felt her loins grow warm with the memory of his ardor.
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