" Quarter of an hour later O'Higgins stepped off the gangplank. She answered slowly. You know—if you want freedom. The dream flowers and is harvested, and we are left by the wayside, having served our singular purpose in the scheme of progress: as the orange is tossed aside when sucked of its ruddy juice. “It is like old times,” she said, “to hear these home truths. Disappointed puppy-love, and all that. Every one took him for the millionaire, and he had lost his head about me. Nothing else was put in their place, and they remained sotto voce, as it were, in his mind. You're in luck to-night, widow.
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