I knew it. “Dear John,” she whispered. She let go of him and stood up, straightening herself. And ever after it struck him that her backward smile as she disappeared was charged with some special significance. There was no way to warn her of his presence without startling her. " "Not now, my love—not now," entreated Wood. Immediately he was gone, she regretted that she had not followed. Spurlock slept on. He was snoring stupidly. “Maternity,” she said, “has been our undoing. So, in broken, rather breathless phrases, he told his story; and when he had done, he laid his arms upon the table and bent his head to them.
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