’ ‘That wasn’t my fault. A granddaughter of mine!’ The idiocy of this notion stuck in his craw and he could think of nothing else for a moment. The coffin was lowered into the grave, and the mourners departed. “We played at love-making in Paris. He jumped back, cursing. There was nothing in his manner to suggest the misery of the preceding night. A dozen books lay upon the counterpane. "When did you see him, my love?" "A short time ago," replied the housekeeper, unsuspiciously. Oh, I’ve loved love, dear! I’ve loved love and you, and the glory of you; and the great time is over, and I have to go carefully and bear children, and—take care of my hair—and when I am done with that I shall be an old woman. “Dare!” she said.
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