The brain tires of resistance, and when it meets again and again, incoherently active, the same phrases, the same ideas that it has already slain, exposed and dissected and buried, it becomes less and less energetic to repeat the operation. 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. "I should be sorry to persuade him to do anything his calmer judgment might disapprove. ’ ‘Well, but he was a deserter, you see. “I don’t know, John. ’ ‘I was called in, ma’am, to catch a French spy—at least, that is what Pottiswick thought. . She could not bear the shame of it. " "Will you do it?" persisted Blueskin.
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