“Please forgive me—for one moment,” she sobbed. Do you think that I shall ever make an actress, my friend?” “I doubt it,” he answered bluntly. I'll tell you something. Outside the post-office stood a nohatted, blond young man in gray flannels, who was elaborately affixing a stamp to a letter. Mind, when we were all growed up, it were different. The eyes, too, though large and bright, and shaded by long lashes, seemed to betoken, as hazel eyes generally do in men, a faithless and uncertain disposition.
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