Her husband was prouder of her every day. ” “Isn’t that a little extreme?” “I am an extreme person at times. You creep around in a nun’s habit, peering into a private ballroom. For the face under her gaze she could find but one expression—fine. I’d ruin the things if I so much as touched one. “You are very kind,” she said hesitatingly, “but I don’t remember—I don’t think that I know you, do I?” “I am afraid that you do not,” he admitted, with a smile which he meant to be encouraging.
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