She crept into the living room and turned off the set, adjusting Cathy’s blanket which had fallen to the carpeted floor. ‘Let go!’ ‘Do you take me for a fool?’ Gerald demanded. The poor old imbecile! Why, this child was a firebrand, a wrecker, if ever he had seen one; and the worst kind because she was unconscious of her gifts. It was surely odd that her thought should pick up that picture and recast it so vividly. The man was my husband.
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