” He fancied that she was yielding, but her eyes fell once more upon that fatal envelope, and her tone when she spoke was colder than ever. She felt smaller and more adventurous even than she had expected to feel. “I don’t care a rap for remembering. And it is your own fault that your husband dallies with me. He tried not to think—of Ruth with her mother's locket, of her misguided father, taking his lonely way to sea. My janizaries are without.
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