They are not your flowers. “And to think that it’s not a full year ago since I was a black-hearted rebel school-girl, distressed, puzzled, perplexed, not understanding that this great force of love was bursting its way through me! All those nameless discontents—they were no more than love’s birth-pangs. Your purposes are defeated. Sailors would leave them at the trader's. I shall always be kind to him; I sha'n't bait him.
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