" "Why not?" "I am a thief, a hunted man. " "I'm sorry I can't indulge you," replied her master, a little piqued. He wasn't quite hard enough to win worldly success; that was his fault. ” True summer descended like a sticky fever upon August’s arrival, bringing with it miasmas of humidity that seemed to hang from the trees like mucus. Her cheeks burned for a moment or two when she reached the street, although she held her head upright and walked blithely, even humming to herself fragments of an old French song. When the doctor came in—he had just finished his breakfast—O'Higgins rose and presented his card.
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