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And all the old—the old trick of shrinking up like a snail at a touch. Whatever he wrote he was: he became this or that character, he suffered or prospered equally. " "What did I say?" "Only one word," she said, offering her first white lie. Never again to be alone! To fit herself into this man's life as a hand into a glove; to use all her skill to force him into the position of depending upon her utterly; to be the spark to the divine fire! He should have his book, even if it had to be written with her heart's blood. " "Blessings upon him!" cried Lady Trafford, fervently. " "And loving me, you fought me, avoided all my traps! I'm glad I've been so unhappy.
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