He was and always would be dramatizing his emotions; perpetually he would be confounding his actual with his imaginary self. He's rewriting Poe and De Maupassant; and that stuff was good only when Poe and De Maupassant wrote it. “You have not feeling enough. Can't I make you see?" "But I'm telling you Ruth loves you. " "Meaning that I don't belong anywhere, in heaven or on earth?" "Meaning that you must cut off the wing or grow another to mate it. Here we are absconding, pretending to be what we are not; shady, to say the least of it. Nobody toys with me. It’s the feinting tricks you have to watch for. I love everything to-day, and all of you, but I love this, this—this innocence upon us most of all. \" Lucy replied, truly amazed. "It is addressed to my mother," he added, as his eye glanced rapidly over it, "and by my father. “Yes, I know. Her tone was icy.
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