The spinster saw herself growing warm again in the morning sunshine of youth —a flaring ember before the hearth grew cold. He beheld a tall gaunt man, his brown face corrugated like a winter's road, grim, stony. Given the proper incentive, who could say that he might not likewise go nobly to some fine end? She thrilled. ” “An appetite like yours,” he said resignedly, “is fatal to all sentiment. She watched as his headlights flooded the driveway and many minutes after his car was gone.
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