She put her clothes back on, 118 lipstick smeared all over her face. I have—run away. There must be something behind the missioner's actions, something of which the girl knew nothing nor suspected. Hurt beyond what he could imagine by the selfishness and pride of her forbears, whose fateful disputes had robbed her of the life she should have led, the plucky little devil had taken matters into her own hands. “May I ask whether you are staying with friends in town?” he inquired deferentially.
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