But he could only utter an inarticulate exclamation. “If I were to marry now,” she said, “it would be with a sense of humiliation. ‘You’ve found her out?’ ‘Tell us at once,’ urged Miss Froxfield. The sense of publicity, of people coming and going about them, kept them both unemotional. She had adored the stupid thing, and kept it in her pocket for about ten years. ” He shook his head, and his eyes and the mouth under the black mustache wrinkled with his smile. She infused menace into her voice.
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