The effort of self-repression cost him a sob. Somewhere she had read that it was the proper thing to do and that men liked to be alone with their tobacco. “How odd that I should almost spring into your arms just on my doorstep!” she remarked gaily. “Lucy, I have to talk to you. “It’s all dirt that washes off, dear, but it’s dirt. His voice propelled her to cry even harder, so hard that she began to laugh behind her tears.
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