I die happy—quite happy in beholding you. ‘Do you not understand that I can trust no one—no one?’ ‘That is a pity,’ Gerald said, rising to face her. They came teeming distressfully through her aching brain: “A man can kick, his skirts don’t tear; A man scores always, everywhere. "And there you're right, you may dipind, marm," observed Terence. From suburbs, from country towns—everywhere. Guiding this man of hers over the troubled sea of life had engraved these lines.
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