"Impossible!" exclaimed the widow, wildly. It is useless to talk. His throat filled; he wanted to weep. She went to her room and changed the loose morning gown in which she had lunched for a dark walking dress. I'm a graybeard, an old bachelor; so I am accorded certain privileges. He walked in her direction. Wood had prevented him from paying much attention to the previous scene. But when she was thinking it over in her room that evening vague and baffling doubts came drifting across this conviction.
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