During all their long comradeship he had never so much as ventured to hold her fingers. “You will write to me, I am sure—and from the date of your letter I trust most earnestly that I may come back to my old place as “Your devoted friend, “WALTER BRENDON. And you have to thank her presence, hot-headed boy, that I do not chastise your insolence as it deserves. All her life Martha had been there. I am a thing to be used.
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