John eased off. ’ That arrested her. Still—” Then, with incredible and obviously deliberate stupidity, and a voice as flat as her own, he asked, “Who is the man?” Her spirit raged within her at the dumbness, the paralysis that had fallen upon her. It would be too mortifying. She loved the market, the horses trotting about, the bishops forced to be on the same road with old washer-women, the fools begging for a Florin or a ducat. She was sorry for his liking her too much for his own good, but her need was too desperate to cavil at turning it to useful account.
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