"So I did," retorted Mrs. The air was crisp and dry. It creaked slightly. "Hush!—come hither, and I'll tell you. If he died, here in this hotel, who would care? Or if she died, who would care? A queer desire blossomed in her heart: to go to him, urge him to see the folly of trying to forget. “You’re so cute. . ” “May I put you in a hansom?” he asked, lifting his stick. And I've made up my mind that a husband ought to believe only half that he hears, and nothing that he sees.
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