Page:The Undying Fire (1919).djvu/265

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Letters and a Telegram
253

place, and gathered the counterpane together into a lump with her clutching hands. "Oh my baby boy!" she wept. "My baby boy. . . .

"And I was so wicked about the mourning. . . . I was so wicked. . . ."

Mr. Huss lay stiff, as the doctor had ordered him to do; but the hand he stretched down could just touch and caress her hair.

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