I’m a soldier, you see. But it strikes me there's a nigger in the woodpile somewhere, as you Yankees say. "Women must have their wills while they live, since they can make none when they die," observed Wood, as he imprinted a kiss of reconciliation on the plump hand of his consort;—a sentiment to the correctness of which the party chiefly interested graciously vouchsafed her assent. ’ You mean you hope you do, thought Gerald cynically. She stopped abruptly, and looked in a flower-shop window.
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