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"God forgive me for using such a word!" he cried, in a troubled tone; "if I hadn't yielded to my wife's silly request, this wouldn't have happened!" CHAPTER VII. "But it won't do. ’ She was silent for a space, and it was evident that this part of the story was still too painful to be recalled with ease. She entered the room in the shadows. Lucy, would you like to be my date for the silly little dance they call the Junior Prom?\" There was a pregnant pause as she digested the information. “Perhaps,” she said, “it is the London climate. ’ ‘Must we talk of it? I’m trying to forget it. ToC Mrs. It is all very complex. Wood governs me?" "It's plain you can't govern yourself, at all events," replied Jack coolly; "but, be that as it may, I won't be struck for nothing. He had, he felt, to create certain ideas and vivify certain curiosities and feelings in her. Her little bedsitting-room was like a lair, and she went out from it into this vast, dun world, with its smoke-gray houses, its glaring streets of shops, its dark streets of homes, its orange-lit windows, under skies of dull copper or muddy gray or black, much as an animal goes out to seek food.
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