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Rh Then I was not unf requently vexed with you, calling you (I remember) a boarding school miss, when you extolled friendship and poured your love-theory into my ears. To-day I am not for love any more. Not because Fate has dealt me any crushing blow. Nothing of the sort; but merely because it has all been most fearfully boring to me. And at present I am taking my revenge for it upon you, in the proverbial phrase: 'Let us remain friends.'"

I had quickened my pace. Wiazewski said not a word. I felt as if I was hastening towards a dark chasm which ever drew back before me, fleeing as I advanced. &hellip; I want all to be over—to lie there, at the bottom of that murky chasm ; and, do what I may, I cannot arrive at the brink. And my teeth are clenched with pain.

"If you knew how madly I love the exceeding sweetness of his mouth!" The words flashed then through my mind: a reminiscence of the far-off, far-off Past!

"I cannot understand you in the least. Never, never, should I have acted so in your place."

"Well, Gina, it is over. Tell me now what