Diane did not hear the footsteps on her brick patio or the audible click of the back door lock being compromised. " "To-morrow will be too late," replied the widow, in a hollow voice, "I feel it will. . “Why should one pretend?” she whispered. "To be lonely! What is physical torture, if someone who loves you is nigh? But to be alone … as I am!… yes, and as you are! Oh, you haven't told me, but I can see with half an eye. "What is your name?" To-day, however, he broke the monotony. He awoke, strangely content.
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