“She’s my wife,” the man muttered. " "Where did he get it?" inquired Wood, in surprise. A silver necklace enhanced the dusky beauty of her neck. And now, my love," she added, with a relenting look, "I'm content to make up our quarrel. He was as hard as a rock. “I should think YOU could do all sorts of things. He had plugged along, if not happy, at least with sound philosophy. Maybe half a year, counting this summer.
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