” He stood still, looking at her. “Well, I have said what I had to say, stumblingly and badly, and baldly. I get along with my Mom sometimes, Lucy. Tell me a story—with apple-blossoms in it—about people who are happy. I don’t see that men need bank it with the women. She was trying by some wonderful, secret, and motionless gymnastics to restrain her tears. ” “You have not seen the evening paper?” “No. Mrs. ‘And it is me you dare accuse? It is yourself you should arrest. ” “I wonder,” said Mr. His smile faded. " "Never mind it, my dear Mrs.
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