He was draining a glass, and as he set it down he shuddered. Wood. Little did I imagine at the time that it was my own father to whom he referred. Manning would on no account do, though he was tall and dark and handsome and kind, and thirty-five and adequately prosperous, and all that a husband should be. She was not afraid exactly, but there was that about her loneliness to-night she distrusted. He turned the water off and handed her a towel. His last actions were futile.
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