Here you are, young, sound, with a heart that will recover in no time, provided you keep liquor out of it. Wood, regarding her husband with a glance of vindictive triumph. ” “And what do you think I ought to do?” “Exactly!” He lifted a paper-weight and dabbed it gently down again. His wife met him at the door, and into her hands he delivered his little charge. "Yes … but dreadfully tired. I'm not quite such a greenhorn as Shotbolt, Jack, whatever you may think. . Why on earth couldn’t he leave her to grow in her own way? Her pride rose at the bare thought of return. So he shut his eyes.
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