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She swore she had never cared for Tom, he being not her style, as she had never loved any one who had not black eyes. "Nothing else matters, Bab," she said, holding out the Sandwitch in a dramatic way. "I see but his eyes. If they are black, they go through me like a knife." "Blue eyes are true eyes," I observed. "There is somthing feirce about black eyes," she said, finishing the cream.
Hold on to him and let her suffer, or remember our long years of intimacy and give him up to her? Should I or should I not remove his Frat pin? However, I was not called upon to renunciate anything. In the midst of my dispair Jane asked for a Sandwitch and thus releived my mind. I got her some cake and a bottle of cream from the pantrey and she became more normle.
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