She felt she must get him talking upon some impersonal theme at any cost. Away up on the hillside was the little country railway station. And turning again, as if the emotions she had churned up kept her on the move, she paced back to the mantel and there stopped, staring at her own reflection in the tarnished mirror. He's down in Patagonia somewhere. Wood, ironically; "but I used to think it required something more than mere words to prove that a person's character was abused. If I were a clean, free man—We’ll have to talk of all these things.
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