"The gentleman under the table," she answered. It was locked. Perhaps that sealed letter was a form of confession, and thus relieved him on that score. “I wonder what you could do?” he said. It was a motor accident—a fatal motor accident the evening papers called it. “I did,” Anna answered. Under happier circumstances nothing would have given me more pleasure than to have offered you a home with your sister. The tree-lined streets were silent except for the sporadic revving of glass packs down Church Avenue. It is most uncomfortable for every one concerned.
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