One cannot trust any man at all. I wish”— she found she had embarked on a bad sentence—“I wish we needn’t have quarrelled. “She’s been up to no good, Sheila. Just one thing more. But," said the fellow, with a laugh, "he soon contrived to make his way out on it, though. “I suppose, Vee, you don’t see much of those Widgetts now?” “I go in and talk to Constance sometimes. Where was this kindly world she had drawn so rosily in fancy? Disillusion everywhere. She twanged the catgut under her fingers. You've saved my life.
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