"You do love me?" "God knows how much!" Suddenly he laid his head on her shoulder. "It gladdens me to hear you talk thus, Joan," said Wood, in a voice of much emotion, while his eyes filled with tears, "and more than repays me for all I have done for you. Woman's love of silk is not set by fashion; it is bred in the bone; and somewhere, somehow, a woman will have her bit of silk. “I’m damned if I’ll believe it,” he muttered to himself savagely. Wood, furiously.
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