There was an air of repressed gaiety in her actions: the sense of freedom had returned; her heart was empty again. “Don’t you know?” “Oh! I know—” “Well—” Her face was an unaccustomed pink. How would he act when he learned that it had vanished? She gathered up the manuscripts and restored them to the envelope. He hugged her when he saw her in the hallway. " "It's light. "Constance—or, rather, Mrs.
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