Don't you see Mr. “Thank God,” he exclaimed. \" Lucy grinned, thinking of the dark gamey odors she had smelled emanating from a few of the less hygienic boys in school. The real tragedy—which he sensed and toward which he was always reaching—eluded all his verbal skill. Manning leaned forward on the table, talking discursively on the probable brilliance of their married life. Beyond the hatch, an angle, formed by a projection in the wall of some three or four feet, served to hide a door conducting to the interior of the prison. Far away there was the one woman for this boy of mine—some human being who would understand the dear fool better than all the rest of the world. She fought the inclination for a while, then surrendered.
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