On beholding the intruders, his fears changed to exultation, and he uttered a roar of satisfaction as he glared at them, which could only be likened to the cry of some savage denizen of the plains. What in the world was the wench up to now? For it must be she. 207 She romanced a dark-haired farmer a few times, having long since forgotten his name. Can you wonder that I expect you to fulfil yours?” “I am not aware,” she answered, “that I have ever failed in doing so. I had no idea you were not the happiest girl.
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