" "Jonathan Wild was my husband's bitterest enemy," said Mrs. Wood. An ugly flush stained his cheeks. “I know,” she said quietly, “that Paris, where she has been so much admired, is not a good place for her. I’m a soldier, you see. Too bad he’s not interested in any girl who’s not a musician. It’s a tremendous blow, of course—but it doesn’t kill me. And it’s like the petals falling from a flower.
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