Her sleepless night had left her languid but not stupefied, and for an hour or so the work distracted her altogether from her troubles. It wasn’t anything splendid, you know. The house was redolent with the smells of cinnamon baking and the stuffed turkey and marinated pork roast. I can't invent; the thing won't come. The more her thoughts dwelt upon the subject, the more convinced she was that she could not go to any one for help; she would have to solve the riddle by her own efforts, by some future experience. ” She went as far as her door, then turned to the window. "He is all alone.
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