The rejection caught him like a slap in the face. Your Mom says to come downstairs for dessert. “Does he never speak to you of—of old times?” she faltered. It was an unspoken curfew in the Beck house on week nights. You did not see me, I know. For his own part he could not sufficiently admire the pluck of this lady, who, notwithstanding all that she had been through, had chosen to appear this evening rather than break her engagement.
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