She could smell the savory tinge of his sweat in the air. I wonder. ’ ‘Who was to know if you would find your place?’ countered Martha. Through all he said ran one quality that pleased her—the quality of a man who feels that things can be done, that one need not wait for the world to push one before one moved. Always as black and bitter as gall. She turned back into the hall. “I will be off,” she declared.
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