"You will never leave me," sobbed the poor woman, straining him to her breast. ” He plunged into one of his drawers, and brought up a small gold-foiled bottle. I’ve wanted you—always. But oh, how weary I am! I know. For a time her efforts to achieve a comprehensive concentration were dispersed by the passage of the village street of Caddington, the passing of a goggled car-load of motorists, and the struggles of a stable lad mounted on one recalcitrant horse and leading another.
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