Talk to her of the new story; divert her; for this day her heart has been twisted sorely. And now you must go back, take up your work and think all this over. ‘What’s more, I wouldn’t blame her. "That's usual. It’s a sort of home-leaving instinct. Wood. Montressor’s guests were. You know—I wish I could roll my little body up small and squeeze it into your hand and grip your fingers upon it. He lowered his voice a little and leaned over towards her.
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