I felt somehow I’d hurt you. . The sun was setting, casting long dreary shadows across deformed apple trees. "You hay'n't hurt your arm, I trust, my dear?" he added, anxiously. He was always doing his best to call her attention to the fact that he was a man of spirit and quality and experience, and she a young and beautiful woman, and that all sorts of constructions upon their relationship were possible, trusting her to go on from that to the idea that all sorts of relationships were possible. "Mr.
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