cordarrelle patterson patriots jersey

"Me!--No, sir. But you spoke as if--"

At the door the Colonel gave me a last look. "Good-night, Legs."

I attempted an evasion. "Oh--a blanket on the ground--face covered up in it from the mosquitos--is really--"

"Is she not! Isn't she the Mrs. Oliver--Charlotte Oliver--who is such friends--she and her husband, I mean, of course,--"

I looked him squarely in the eyes and began to burn. At every new unfolding of his confidence I had let my own vanity, pride, self-love be more and more flattered, and here at length was getting ready to esteem him less for showing such lack of reserve as to use me as an escape-valve for his pent-up thoughts, when all at once I fancied I saw what he was trying to do. I believed he had guessed my temptations of the night and was making use of himself to warn me how to fight them. "I understand," said I, humbly.

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