‘And you come to me, thinking yourself half French, and expect me to take you in. I asked him to take me away, and hide me. Suddenly she had become afraid. At times he seemed to be claiming pity from her; at times he was threatening her with her check and exposure; at times he was boasting of his inflexible will, and how, in the end, he always got what he wanted. I wanted something alive. A town called Foster.
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