. But I don’t want to. The colour slowly left her cheeks, the lines of her mouth hardened. Perhaps some one had kissed the brow that was now so cadaverous, rubbed that sunken cheek with loving fingers, held that stringy neck with passionately living hands. Take it, I tell you. Wood, regarding her husband with a glance of vindictive triumph. Get me an interview with her. He could not promise that she would ever appear again in that house.
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