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For in life there is but one hour: an epic or an idyll: all other hours lead up to and down from it. ” “It was Cheveney!” he said slowly. “Yes,” he said, “I want to get away. " "And you married me, knowing?" "I married the man who bought a sing-song girl to give her her freedom. " "And leave you thus?" rejoined Jack. He moved, after quiet intervals, with a quick little movement, and ever and again stroked his small mustache and coughed a selfconscious cough. I did not even know where to write and thank you. There's another lad at the gate waiting for him—the same who was here just now, that Sir Rowland was speaking of, who fastened up the jewelcase for her ladyship. A film of dust lay upon it; the ink marks were ancient. Wood—and after him came his daughter.
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