“My God!” he said at last, with tremendous feeling, and then again, “My God!” Now that this thing was said her mind was clear and calm. There followed a silence which endured several minutes; or, rather a tableau. Nothing is settled upon. And tell Pottiswick to mend that lock we broke. I often wonder why the young always take us ancients for nambypamby creatures. Besides, I'm afraid her simple honesty will spoil any invented yarn. She wanted to cry out upon herself for the uttermost fool in existence.
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