The taste of his sweat was intoxicating, like sweet brandy, like blood. I'm almost sorry I've sworn to hang you. They WERE, she realized, acutely beautiful things. ” She dropped back into a crouching attitude and began to weep. About her, as she had gone day by day to and from the Tredgold College, she had seen and not seen many an incidental aspect of those sides of life about which girls are expected to know nothing, aspects that were extraordinarily relevant to her own position and outlook on the world, and yet by convention ineffably remote.
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