’ The girl nodded understandingly. “It is no good playing a game. “Why can’t you tell people that you are what you are? Why all the secrecy?” She looked beyond the farmhouse. Oh, I’ve loved love, dear! I’ve loved love and you, and the glory of you; and the great time is over, and I have to go carefully and bear children, and—take care of my hair—and when I am done with that I shall be an old woman. ” The detective thrust his notebook into his pocket. Part 4 MY DEAR VEE, he wrote.
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