He stood there, large and dark, enunciating, in his clear voice from beneath his large mustache, clear flat sentences, deliberately kindly. “You’re very nice, both of you,” she said gently. Run along while I rig up and get the part in my hair straight. ‘Read that,’ and threw the telegram at me, so that it went into the tureen. If he keeps his word, I'll keep mine. Have you not tired of sadness and pain?” 81 She thought she could hear tears in his voice but would not look at him. He had saluted her with elaborate civility, his eyes distended with indecipherable meanings. “I’m still new to them. "You didn't spend it?" "I never intended to spend it—any more than I really intended to steal it. "—An answer for which he was immediately reprimanded by the court. Playing with one hand he turned on his stool to glance at her.
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