It's about time he gotover it."How do I do that?" I asked her, clicking my suitcase shut."You'll know," was all Mom said. "I've seen you work a room ...ullof boys. You know things about boys I don't ever want to know." Mom!" I called out in desperation, stretching out that singlesyllable into four or five, trying to make it a cry of anguish.She turned her back on me. "Just do it!" she said. And she closedthe door between us.So what could I do? When I got back to school I told the. She began counting them, remarking that they were much slower than the beatings of her heart; and still she doubted, --the inoffensive Valentine could not imagine that any one should desire her death. Why should they? To what end? What had she done to excite the malice of an enemy? There was no fear of her falling asleep. One terrible idea pressed upon her mind, --that some one existed in the world who had attempted to assassinate her, and who was about to endeavor to do so again. Supposing. More

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