Part 3 She dismissed the first hotels she passed, she scarcely knew why, mainly perhaps from the mere dread of entering them, and crossed Waterloo Bridge at a leisurely pace. McClintock, without comment, accepted the hand. He held her eyes. You must live for me. Things hung for a moment in an awkward silence. 'But I don't desire to spoil sport,—not I. But at the word “home” she turned again. I—I hurt myself. ” Capes suddenly abandoned his attitude of meditative restraint.
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