But his grief was of short duration. “And children must we women bear— “Oh, damn!” she cried, as the hundred-and-first couplet or so presented itself in her unwilling brain. All the same, I wish I had that fellow by the throat! Just the virile, unregenerate man in me wishes that. ‘That’s what comes of disarming yourself. You have your work before you, and I——” He kissed her on the lips.
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