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Griffin was the first of the three to recover. She leaned forward, a thin, eager hand on Judith's arm. "Because I have a suspicion, which I can not prove at present. Battersea gave me a hint, upon which I am determined to work. To-night I may learn the truth." "I can't help it," I gulped in my sleeve. "I did use to like Alfred Bennett. My heart almost broke when he went away. I used to be beautiful and slim, and now I feel as if my own fat ghost has come to haunt me all my life. I am so ashamed! If a woman can't cry over her own dead beauty, what can she cry over?" By this time I was really crying..

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"Yes I do," rejoined David, interrupting in his turn. "And so does she!" "And how many pounds are we nearer the scarlet-runner state of existence, Mrs. Molly?" he asked me before I had finished tying the blouse, in the nicest voice in the world, fairly cracking with friendship and good humour and hateful things like that. Why I should have wanted him to get huffy over that letter is more than I can say. But I did; and he didn't. While the major was thus considering what step he should take, David, returning from a long and solitary walk, entered the room. Of late the young man had indulged in these lonely excursions, whence he always returned more melancholy than ever. His fine face was lean and worn, there were dark circles under his eyes, and his manner, formerly noted for its composure, was now nervous and hesitating. On approaching his guardian he saw the devil-stick on the table, and at once his pale face grew yet paler. And from then on for hours and hours I was strapped to a torture wheel that turned and turned, minute after minute, as it ground spice and sugar and bridal meats and me relentlessly into a great suffering pulp. Could I ever in all my life have hungered for food and been able to get it past the lump in my throat that grew larger with the seconds? And if Alfred's pudding tasted of the salt of Dead Sea fruit this evening, it was from my surreptitious tears that dripped into it..