You are not my husband. " "You may see the marks on the child yourself, if you choose, Sir," urged the widow. Then as she drew nearer paint showed upon her face, and a harsh purpose behind the quiet expression of her open countenance, and a sort of unreality in her splendor betrayed itself for which Ann Veronica could not recall the right word—a word, half understood, that lurked and hid in her mind, the word “meretricious. Her situation was perplexing her very much, and the Widgett atmosphere was lax and sympathetic, and provocative of discussion.
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