She watched the captain tuck the pistol back in his pocket, and perch on the edge of the big desk. ’ ‘Dieu du ciel,’ burst from mademoiselle as she jumped up. Sheila’s own waif of a husband had objected to her airing the truth, he had even gotten the nerve to bring up the word divorce. His eyebrows arched, knotting in the middle. "Do you call this frantic glee happiness?" "It's all the happiness I have known for years," returned the widow, becoming suddenly calm, "and it's short-lived enough, as you perceive.
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