She heard him crash against it, and turned the key in the lock. I know how bad it feels. Fell to sin, did Martha. “Why—it’s—it’s you!” Amazement seemed to dry up the torrents of his speech. The fragrance of dryer sheets lay upon her like the snow that now drifted peacefully outside. They talked for the better part of an hour, and at last walked together to the junction of highroad and the bridle-path.
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