This was enough for the poor widow. Section 3. The Ragged Edge. She had to school herself to speak the words which she knew would cut him like a knife. He had not been successful as the world counted success; the fat bank-account, the filled waiting room of which he had once dreamed, had never materialized except in the smoke of his evening pipe. The applause was uproarious at the end of the concert. She looked, Dorothée said, just as she always looks.
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