. “I confess it. “Come,” he said, “you can’t be meaning to bury yourself. Our quarrel's quite over. She smiled mechanically at the audience, holding her violin limply, feeling the hot lights on her made-up face. And every day's experience proves that I was right. He has told me sufficient of you—" "My dear," interposed Wood, "for goodness' sake—" "I will speak," screamed his wife, totally disregarding the interruption; "I will tell this worthless creature what I know about her,—and what I think of her.
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