But it is all very different. \" Diane chirped once again, ever-musical. The next morning came a compact letter from her father. He had not bothered to take off his raincoat and his umbrella sat dripping on his modern ice cube of a table. “You are going to treat me as though I wasn’t. It had seemed to her that life might be very good indeed with his kindliness and sacrifice about her. There was no mistaking his intentions this time.
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