” He stuttered. ‘Seems to me like you know just about as much as me. ‘Well, what was I to think, miss? Martha never wrote nothing about you, and I did ask. She clasped her hands over her mouth in a silent scream. “Don’t you know, child, that this is torture for me? What in God’s name more can you have to tell me?” Her face had become almost like a marble image.
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