Her mind invoked her husband, who she imagined lying dead in a ditch somewhere, tortured and killed by brigands or perhaps eaten by creatures like herself, a fate he actually deserved. But in the train going home her aunt reasoned it out. ‘You’ve cause to be grateful to Gerald, then. " "Not utterly," rejoined the other. She thought gleefully of the dress she would get to wear for the Ball (Prom?) and could not wait to tell her foster family about how excited she was. ” The young man accepted the letter and the message, and seemed about to close the door when a lady issued from one of the front rooms and intervened.
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