V. Woman's love of silk is not set by fashion; it is bred in the bone; and somewhere, somehow, a woman will have her bit of silk. He realized that he was committed to the path across the fields, an uninteresting walk at the best of times. . " "Well," said Sister Prudence, "remember, I tried to save you some future heartaches. " Taking the keys, he led the way, followed by Jonathan, who chuckled internally at the shock that awaited the poor fellow. For a few minutes all was silent. But she was disappointed. It was painful to want him so much.
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