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LETTERS.
LETTER XII.
Tuesday Evening.
Sir,
When you left me this morning, and I reflected a moment—your officious message, which at first appeared to me a joke—looked so very like an insult—I cannot forget it—To prevent then the necessity of forcing a smile—when I chance to meet you—I take the earliest opportunity of informing you of my real sentiments.
Mary Wollstonecraft.
LETTER
