She crawled underneath the soft white sheets, reclining and pulling the blankets up to her chin. Never again to be alone! To fit herself into this man's life as a hand into a glove; to use all her skill to force him into the position of depending upon her utterly; to be the spark to the divine fire! He should have his book, even if it had to be written with her heart's blood. " "Your secret?" demanded Trenchard, impatiently. "That's usual. “Stop me if there is anything you want to watch. Do you live here?" "Not exactly," answered the carpenter.
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