That’s how things are; that’s the order of the world. She thought of how much she wanted to eat the foods she had once feasted on that now smelled as innocuous as spring flowers. Perhaps some one had kissed the brow that was now so cadaverous, rubbed that sunken cheek with loving fingers, held that stringy neck with passionately living hands. It was his purpose to complete four or five stories before he sent any away. He could not see these two shrinking misses capering about in a nun’s habit and brandishing a defiant pistol.
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