His tone was kind and sympathetic. He hadn't gambled or played the horses or hit the booze back there in little old New York…. Let us part in peace. The lamp was not yet lit, and in the dim light he bent forward as though trying to look into her averted face. Something in his tone pinched her heart. He was now at the entrance of the chapel, and striking the door over which he had previously climbed a violent blow with the bar, it flew open.
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