He had heard me sing—the fool thought himself in love with me. "Did I hear you …" began McClintock. Believe me, Anna. Ruth Enschede, Hartford, Conn. ‘Now you see why it is I no longer require the proof of which I have spoken. ‘I didn’t mean to hurt you so badly,’ he said, still meeting her eyes, unaware that his hold about her hand had tightened a little.
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