But I don't look for peace on this side the grave. “Stop!” He ran towards her. She returned home through a world that was as roseate as it had been gray overnight. If only sometimes he would grow angry at her, impatient! But his tender courtesy was unfailing; and under this would be the abiding bitterness of having mistaken gratitude for love. “Cheveney wouldn’t have anything to say about it, as it happens,” he remarked, a little grimly.
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