" She showed him the locket; and he studied the face. She had mentioned the address where she and her sister had lived. “Miss Pellissier, isn’t it?” he said. The real tragedy—which he sensed and toward which he was always reaching—eluded all his verbal skill. Where the stuff came from was always a mystery. That would come later. “Just at present my mind simply won’t take hold of this at all. ” “We’ll have, thank God! ten myriad days to tell each other things. He made his speech a little elaborately.
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