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But I don’t want to. “Hotel Ritz,” he said mechanically to the coachman. The perspiration stood out upon his forehead. “I’m sorry Lucy! I’m sorry to Mike too! You were right, we’re a mismatch! I just don’t want to be lonely!” Lucy hugged Michelle. ” She felt, with a sudden horror, that she might weep. If you don’t eat humble-pie now you may live to fare worse later. But such was the violence of his grief,—such the compunction he exhibited, that all but one looked on with an eye of compassion.
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