"Well, Mrs. ”
“There’s Miss Garvice. I call myself a man of the world, a man of
many experiences, but I never knew what love meant—until I met your sister. “Yeah, I’ve heard that story. There was no marriage, and I hated, oh, how I
hated the man. Chapter VI
A QUESTION OF IDENTIFICATION
The little man with the closely-cropped beard and hair looked at her keenly
through his gold eye-glasses. He figures them out, though. God, Lucy, what’s it been, how
many years?”
“I’m so sorry, John. A little inn flying a Swiss
flag nestles under a great rock, and there they put aside their knapsacks and
lunched and rested in the mid-day shadow of the gorge and the scent of resin. I did not even know where to write and thank you. Clarice rubbed her belly, singing songs to the
unborn baby.
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