” Her elation teetered in mid-air for a second, then began to flutter down around her like a badly-built house of cards. She turned away from the doorway of the silk loom to observe. “I wonder,” she said, “why one writes him sentences like that? It’ll have to go,” she decided, “I’ve written too many already. Her heart ached; and that puzzled her. "I was at Tyburn.
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