“Why do you hate me again, my love?” He seemed to brighten, feeding upon the intensity of her emotion. He regretted— more deeply than he could say—the occurrence of this evening. Vorsack sauntered into the room, sporting her usual toothy thin254 lipped grin. I know all. So he sharpened a score of pencils, and after fiddling about and rewriting the last page he had written the previous night, he plunged into work. ’ She spoke with difficulty, holding down the rising emotion that threatened to overwhelm her.
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