I wrote three letters yesterday and tore them up. "Maybe he realized that he was slipping fast and thought a fine action might give him a hand-hold on life again. She shook her head. Plainly. ’ ‘Yes, I know,’ Gerald put in with an irrepresssible chuckle. "To—to—no matter what," returned the widow distractedly. Perhaps there were experiences she would never confide to any man. "I'm your dupe no longer.
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