” He played it cool, but he had seen it in her face. For she knew that men married to get something. ’ ‘I’m that sorry, miss,’ Kimble said glumly. But if he speaks—I fear what he may tell. She had to wear cream and a brown sash and a short frock and her hair down, and Gwen cream and a brown sash and a long skirt and her hair up. She was aware of it now as if it were a voice shouting outside a house, shouting passionate verities in a hot sunlight, a voice that cries while people talk insincerely in a darkened room and pretend not to hear. “Then you—you will?” A long pause.
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