He seemed years younger, and the arrangement of his tie and hair were almost rakish. “Remember,” he said, “you are not by any means a dying man now, but you’ll never pull through if you don’t husband your strength. " Mrs. His invalid wife and her money had been only the thin thread that held his life together; beaded on that permanent relation had been an inter-weaving series of other feminine experiences, disturbing, absorbing, interesting, memorable affairs. She looked at Lucy guiltily, wondering if she would be betrayed. I have brought disgrace upon you, and I haven’t been the right sort of wife at all. “John, don’t!” she cried. ‘She? Sa femme? That is the game then? That she could dare to take my place, that salope.
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