“But I—I went to Nigel Ennison for help. These daughters! He gnawed his pen and reflected, tore the sheet up, and began again. Given the proper incentive, who could say that he might not likewise go nobly to some fine end? She thrilled. They stood back together and stared at it. Shy, grateful in her loneliness for this unexpected attention, she had listened. Lord, what a state I was in! Night after night I sat there, I watched her come in, I watched her go.
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