Her sense followed the shoulders under his coat, down to where his flexible, sensitive-looking hand rested lightly upon the table. She let him have it all, as it was, after all, for the last time. The letter began: “MY DEAREST GIRL,—I cannot let you do this foolish thing—” She crumpled notes and letter together in her hand, and then with a passionate gesture flung them into the fire. You have neither reason nor logic. I step on my neighbour's feet, return and apologize because my acquired conscience orders me to do so; whereas you might pass on without caring if your neighbour hopped about on one foot. " "We shall see," replied Jack.
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