\"It's getting late John. And so gentle as the poor creature is, when she's not in her wild fits—it would melt a heart of stone to see her. Treat me as an elder brother, if you like. We can’t be lovers in the ordinary sense, but we can be great and intimate friends. ” She had spoken rather rapidly. Sometimes I think she’s tired of us. My eyes are open to you. I had no idea even that she was a friend of yours. "Perhaps.
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