IX. Sadly, the Christmas break came to an end. The taste of his sweat was intoxicating, like sweet brandy, like blood. “You, too,” he said abruptly. ‘My papa he does not wish me to marry the man I choose, and thus he places me in the convent that the nuns may lock me up and I cannot escape. "Give it me," returned the carpenter; "all's safe. ” “I hope,” he answered, looking at her in some surprise, “that we shall have many more such to think about.
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