You make a game with me, imbecile. The tears were streaming down her face, her voice was thick with sobs. If I could but——” To escape from her thoughts she began to undress, humming a light tune to herself, though her eyes were hot with unshed tears, and the sobs kept rising in her throat. " Thus urged, Jack reluctantly departed. " "So she was," replied the woollen-draper, helping himself to an enormous pinch of snuff with the air of a man who does not dislike to be rallied about his gallantry,—"so she was. He drove her home that night, kissing her again and again at stoplights. “Dinner is served, ma’am,” he announced to Mrs.
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