Shoplatch. ‘Lord,’ he uttered, glancing about with a disparaging eye. Could it be him you mean?" "No. " The doctor relaxed. " "'The avenger of blood himself shall slay the murderer'," said Wood, who was culling for himself certain texts from the scriptures. Why? While the front of his mind was busy warning her not to fall into the hopeless miseries of underpaid teaching, and explaining his idea that for women of initiative, quite as much as for men, the world of business had by far the best chances, the back chambers of his brain were busy with the problem of that “Why?” His first idea as a man of the world was to explain her unrest by a lover, some secret or forbidden or impossible lover. The subterranean level of the Diedermayer house was fully bedecked with every luxury known to mankind. “Let’s go. Already the warm sun was drawing from the pines their delicious odour. You might be able to use the picture some day. Suddenly she understood. Perhaps these few words were the first real conscious words he had uttered in days.
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