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Updated: May 13, 2025
Efen if she haf not lofe, but only t'e ambition of power or learning or vealt', I might pity her vit' equal injustice, but I cannot. She vill not let me. She does not know t'at she is a failure. She prides herself upon being so mis-made. She cannot help t'at; neit'er can I help despising her. Such vomen are abnormal, monstrous, in a vord, failures. Let t'em die! You, I t'ink, are not so.
The perplexed Brown, fully conscious that his great strength was useless here, looked an answer, although his lips merely sputtered in vain attempt at speech. "So; I read dat in de eyes. Den of course you lofe me. It vas de nature. But vis me it vas not so easy; no, not near so easy.
She released her clasp upon his arm, her eyes drooping behind their long lashes, the merry laughter fading from her lips. "Dat vas not von bit nice of you, señor. Vy you ever keep bodder me so, ven I good to you? No, I tol' you not ask me dat so quick soon again. Did I not do dis? I tol' you den I know not; I meet you only de twice how I lofe ven I meet you only de twice?"
"Everyting dat luxury shall sopply shall be for you. Not any qveen shall be more rich dan vat you shall be. You shall be respected like ein Cherman Braut. I shall hafe you to be free. Do not veep! Listen to me I lofe you really, truly, mit de purest lofe. Efery tear of yours breaks my heart." "Can one truly love a woman one has bought?" said the poor girl in the sweetest tones.
You are mad in lofe with some beautiful one who will not look at you. I haf seen it in mans before. It is she who eats you op your evil thinkings of her. It serve you right. Your eyes look mad." He himself, at times, suspected that they did, and cursed himself because he could not keep cool.
Some have written within the scaberde of a sweard: Other have put the Letters in an unbaked lofe, and after have baked the same, and given it for meate to hym that caried theim.
Maybe I no lofe him, but I know he vas good man an' he lofe me. Eet vas de honor ven he ask me dat, an' now I be good voman because a good man lofes me. Holy Mother! eet vill be easy now dat he vanted to marry me." Impulsively Beth Norvell, her own eyes moist, held the other, sobbing like a child within the clasp of sympathetic arms.
"Sacre! but you have not played the economist, Monsieur Lofe," said Monsieur Goupille, rather querulously, as he glanced at the long room adorned with artificial flowers, and the table a cingitante couverts. "Bah!" replied Mr. Love, "you can retrench afterwards. Think of the fortune she brought you." "It is a pretty sum, certainly," said Monsieur Goupille, "and the notary is perfectly satisfied."
I don't believe you love me, and I never will believe it again. So don't say tender things. They only make me sad. Tell me what " "You do pelief I lofe you." "No." "Chérie." "Don't, Tulitz!" "You know I haf a so hot blood. It tingle viz lofe for you and I am sane. Zen I dream. I see some strange sight power, money, ze people at my feet ze people I hate, bah! I see zem all bend.
"Besides, monsieur," added Pelletan, leaning forward, "t'ese t'ings are not all what t'ey seem t'is dragon, par exemple, ees not off bronze, but off t'e plaster of Paris yet I lofe eet none t'e less more, perhaps, because off t'at fery fact." "And these ah females," said Rushford, and waved his hand at the serried photographs, "I suppose even they are necessary to your existence."
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