“What can you do?” she asked. She was lovely, painted like the porcelain doll he had always wanted her to be. " "Those terms were a third of my estate," observed Trenchard bitterly. “I’ve been thinking—all the afternoon. "The gen'l'man'll be here directly. In a little while—to-morrow—all these tender, beautiful emotions will pass away, and I'll become what I was yesterday, a cynical, miserly old spinster. I went to her rooms to-night.
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