She could not bear the shame of it. “I don’t think I shall. And when you reflect how much at heart your poor mother, whose loss we must ever deplore, had our union, you will, I am persuaded, no longer refuse me. ‘Only me name,’ Kimble said apologetically. ” “You would marry a divorcée?” she asked. “I confess it. The joy of being loved thrilled her as nothing before had ever done, a curious abstract joy which had nothing in it at that moment of regret or even pity. ’ She paused, holding her nurse’s eyes.
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