The recollection of the forlorn and loveless years—stirred into consciousness by the unexpected confrontation—bent her as the high wind bends the water-reed. “I am sorry,” he said slowly. I knew it. He stood by her side, and he suffered her hands to rest in his. “Very well,” he said. “Both. Fairbanks, AK, 99712. She felt sickeningly empty. She drew up a chair and sat down, putting her palm on the damp, cold forehead. Below it a prodigiously large bolt was shot into the socket, and, in order to keep it there, was fastened by a hasp, and further protected by an immense padlock.
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