He wrote poems to her beauty that he recited from a seemingly infinite memory. So I've grown hard—outside. ” “You are not a coward,” she repeated, “or you would not be my friend. " He rose for fear she might touch him again. She had never let off a pistol in her life. He was a business man, pure and simple, his eyes were fastened always upon the practical side of life. It was Ennison who for the rest of his visit was quiet and subdued.
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