She paced restlessly to the door and back again, biting her tongue on the hot words begging to be uttered. Too late now. A live man. “John?” He turned around in the recliner. " "I can't! I can't—not now!" "Bat!—can't you see that she's the kind who would understand and forgive? She loves you. The primitive superstition of his Puritan forbears was his; and before this the buckler of his education disintegrated.
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