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I once might have married you for your beauty,—now I marry you for your wealth. He looked like the shadow of himself—thin, feeble, hollow-eyed—his beard unshorn—nothing could be more miserable. And yet, at the end of this prayer a subconscious thought broke through to consciousness. Am I so forgettable?” He strode down the hall as she ran to catch up with him past lockers someone had painted an abysmal shade of gray blue.
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