" CHAPTER IX. ” He rowed a stroke and watched the swirl of water from his oar broaden and die away. An unhappy little sigh escaped her. Under the somewhat trying incandescent light her cheeks pleaded guilty to a recent use of the powder puff. "Do you call this frantic glee happiness?" "It's all the happiness I have known for years," returned the widow, becoming suddenly calm, "and it's short-lived enough, as you perceive.
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