” His voice assumed an easy detached tone. There were sidetables and a writing table, similarly buried in bric-a-brac, and the chair by the French doors could hardly be seen for blankets. When I gave him an invitation to supper, I little thought he'd accept it. He leaned towards her as though anxious to see more of her face than that faint delicate profile gleaming like marble in the uncertain light. He saw the tragedy on the boy's face; but he was merciless. "Heed her not. . She refused to eat.
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