‘Moreover, no one will believe any more that Yolande is me when they see this. I can fairly understand Ruth; but you…!" "Have you ever been so lonely that the soul of you cried in anguish? Twentyfour hours a day to think in, alone?… Perhaps I did not want to go mad from loneliness. The overnight nervous strain began to tell; she became inattentive to the work before her, and it did not get on. This discovery made, I hastened back to London to offer you my hand, but found you had married in the mean time a smock-faced, smooth-tongued carpenter named Sheppard. I’ve a dread of love dropping its petals, becoming mean and ugly. "An American. “How has the world taken it?” he asked.
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