But when she saw the car, her body filled with dread, for it gave her a bad feeling. She was glad to join in the stream of hurrying homeward workers that was now welling out of a thousand places of employment, and to imitate their driven, preoccupied haste. We had better have it over. She knew Martha would not ask anything that she did not wish to know. "Much that I would willingly forget. “Why do you hate me again, my love?” He seemed to brighten, feeding upon the intensity of her emotion. "With your friends, dear Mrs.
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