"We have had a sad loss, my dear Winifred," he began,—"for I must use the privilege of an old friend, and address you by that familiar name,—we have had a sad loss in the death of your lamented parent, whose memory I shall for ever revere. Sweet sixteen year old Shari, who never once figured out the morning sleep hangovers she suffered monthly. Hoddy. Glad did I live and gladly die, And I laid me down with a will. ‘There is no question of a dispute. I do not care, but only that you will leave my affairs to me. He was a man tout à fait capable, this Gerald. The letter began: “MY DEAREST GIRL,—I cannot let you do this foolish thing—” She crumpled notes and letter together in her hand, and then with a passionate gesture flung them into the fire. She had no inkling of that insupportable wrong.
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