One puts gloves on one’s greedy fingers. “Won’t you sit down,” she said, “and tell me what you want to say?” Her voice was flat and faint. “Why did you ever let me love you? Why did you ever let me peep through the gates of Paradise? Oh! my God! I don’t begin to feel and realize this yet. " "Hear me, Madam, I beseech you," interposed Mrs. ” “But Hainault—was—a pal.
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