But after all, what did it matter whether she had secrets or not? To him she was not a woman but a symbol; and one did not investigate the antecedents of symbols. The farmer was a widow who was slightly famous around town for his prize cows and slightly more famous for his good looks. She spoke readily enough, but there was a new timidity in her manner. "Come down stairs directly, and let your mother look at your wrist. ” She turned a firelit face to her husband.
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