They struck her as cold and indifferent. The spinster saw herself growing warm again in the morning sunshine of youth —a flaring ember before the hearth grew cold. When her shock and the headache subsided, and she remembered that she had been reading the letter when Gosse had accosted her, she looked for it in vain. “Why don’t you?” “Well, it might mean rather a row. Mike’s a fireman and he’s got kids too. Everything in this world changed—except human folly. But, you see, I’m smirched.
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