He started a dozen stories, but they all ended in the waste-basket. She occupied a small sofa, a little apart, a ruddy-complexioned gentleman some years her senior beside her, and glanced about with an air of considerable unease. She told her husband that she wished her nothing more than her own death. ” “Your husband,” he answered bluntly. Spurlock then?" "I imagine that Mr. If I could but——” To escape from her thoughts she began to undress, humming a light tune to herself, though her eyes were hot with unshed tears, and the sobs kept rising in her throat.
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