“You mean to tell me” he said, “that you have a lover? While I have been keeping you! Yes—keeping you!” This view of life he hurled at her as if it were an offensive missile. I'll tell you what. On the day he carried the manuscript to Copeley's he brought back a packet of letters, magazines, and newspapers. ” “You’ll never pay me. The girl was like some north-country woodland pool, penetrated by a single shaft of sunlight—beautifully clear in one spot and mysteriously obscured elsewhere.
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