“Oh, I know you would stop me if you could. Hers was beauty on a large scale no doubt; but it was beauty, nevertheless: and the carpenter thought her eyes as bright, her complexion as blooming, and her figure (if a little more buxom) quite as captivating as when he led her to the altar some twenty years ago. Then to Martin's brandy-shop, in Fleet Street. Through her door curtain she could see the light from the study lamp. "What shall I say? Shall I tell you, or shall I leave you in the dark—as I must always leave her? What shall I say except that I am accursed of men? Yes; I have loved something—her mother. She could feel her face turning beet red. She glanced at him. Sydney was strumming over a new song which stood upon the piano. ” “It is,” he replied, “the one humiliation of my life. But was that enough? Dim, formless suspicions of something more vital wandered about his mind.
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