" "What time is it?" inquired Jack. “No, I must have had hope lurking somewhere too. He drew out the check and the editorial letter. She did not open the Bible but laid it on the edge of the bed, knelt and rested her forehead upon the worn leather cover. “You ought at once—you ought at once to have told her that. You're rich. Through all this flutter of novelty there came and went a solicitous, preoccupied, almost depressed figure. A sob was strangled in her throat. “You’re not a man for me—not one of a sex, I mean.
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