Howard Taber. She would never forget the agony of that first meal in the great dining room. She was wan and white. It made her hungry. The hand that had been clenched lay open, relaxed; and upon the palm he saw her mother's locket. Yet here you are, and at precisely the right moment, too. Somebody to depend upon her; somebody to have need of her, if only for a little while. For a moment she too had started and faltered in her exit from the room.
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