I tore the marriage certificate from his pocket and burnt it. “I don’t see that his being a good sort matters. If he died, here in this hotel, who would care? Or if she died, who would care? A queer desire blossomed in her heart: to go to him, urge him to see the folly of trying to forget. Earles remarked genially. Anna, who was disposed to be sharply critical, could find no fault with it. ‘Me and the butler didn’t see eye to eye.
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