A fever of shame ran through her being. The fireplace was at the other end, with the sheeted shapes of two sofas either side. If you know her for the vicious, scheming wretch that she is, why in God’s name—?’ ‘She’s not a vicious, scheming wretch,’ Gerald said calmly. “Our ways happened to lie together. America, the land of rosy apples and snowstorms, beckoned, and she wanted to fly thitherward. She climbed back into the window an hour before sunrise. "My God! will you see your child strangled before your eyes, and not so much as scream for help?" said Wood, staring at the widow with a look of surprise and horror. ’ She shook her head.
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