207 She romanced a dark-haired farmer a few times, having long since forgotten his name. She didn’t choose her man. Marry, come up! I've been a great deal too charitable. ” “No! I’ll explain lower. “But, my dear,” she began, “it is Impossible! It is quite out of the Question. So long as a man behaves himself, I can't refuse him liquor. She rose, paid her bill, and turned westwards. He started a dozen stories, but they all ended in the waste-basket. There’s always friction, conflict, unwilling concessions. She had set out to get a beautiful life, a free, untrammelled life, self-development, without counting the cost either for herself or others.
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