" "I thought as much," sneered Mrs. “My wife. For a time she looked at no more apartments, and walked through gaunt and ill-cleaned streets, through the sordid under side of life, perplexed and troubled, ashamed of her previous obtuseness. There’s something about you, a little flavor of Will, I suppose, that makes one feel—good luck about you and success. Wood, I forget nothing. Before her was a great Gothic portal. ’ ‘I do not marry a man who makes me a threat like this,’ she flashed.
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