The little room was fragrant with flowers, Anna herself bright, and with all the evidences of well being. “I’ve thought about it. And I've made up my mind that a husband ought to believe only half that he hears, and nothing that he sees. Then Mr. As the Wastrel played, Spurlock knew that the man saw the inevitable end—death by drink; saw the glory of the things he had thrown away, the past, once so full of promise. When she finished her last cadence, Carolyn and Thomas begged her to play encores. Ever since he came here, three months ago, he has been the life and soul of the place; and now the death warrant has arrived, instead of being cast down, as most men would be, and as all others are, he's gayer than ever. It was no use.
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