I'll lay my life he's gone. After a while he spoke again. But after all, what did it matter whether she had secrets or not? To him she was not a woman but a symbol; and one did not investigate the antecedents of symbols. ’ He could just see the glare. There was the cottage she had inhabited for so many years,—in those fields she had rambled,—at that church she had prayed. " "I have no people—anybody who would care. “Sit down,” he said, and perused—“perused” is the word for it—for some moments. There it is.
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