“More coffee, hon?” She held her hand over the cup. He waved an arm and spoke with a peculiar resonance. A single false step might have precipitated him into the street; or, if he had trodden upon an unsound part of the roof, he must have fallen through it. I am having them to my own soirée on Monday. He looked around, and as he heard that deafening shout,— as he felt the influence of those thousand eyes fixed upon him,—as he listened to the cheers, all his misgivings—if he had any—vanished, and he felt more as if he were marching to a triumph, than proceeding to a shameful death. Meanwhile, she doesn’t realize she’s pregnant and he’s still after her, day after day.
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