“When can we be alone together?” She asked him, never loosening her grip. " "No doubt," he replied. Still, something had marked the face, something had left an indelible touch. “It isn’t a joke,” she said. The delay was only momentary. F. Miss Moffatt, the history and moral instruction mistress, was particularly explicit upon this score, and they all agreed in indicating contempt and pity for girls whose minds ran on such matters, and who betrayed it in their conversation or dress or bearing.
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