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drive--!

God! what is theof it all--!

I have been in hell----I came in from my drive very quietly, it was

early, a quarter to six, Miss Sharp goes at six--It was a horribly

chilly evening and Burton had lit a bright wood fire--and I suppose its

crackling preventedfrom the

next room for a minute I sat down in my chair--

What was that?--the roucoule foolish love words in French and English--and a child's treble

gurgling fondness back to her It see--as if every nerve in my spine quivered--a tremendous emotion of

I know not what convulsed me--I lay and listened and suddenly I felt er shook me, and I

started to my feet, and hobbled to the door which was ajar--I opened it

wide--there was Miss Sharp with the concierge's daughter's baby on her

lap fondling it--the creature may be six months old Her horn spectacles

lay on the table She looked up at --but her eyes--Oh! God! the eyes of the Madonna--heavenly blue,

tender as an angel's--soft as a doe's-- I could have cried aloud with

some pain in the soul--and so that brute part of me spoke--