She laughed a little contemptuously. Nothing else so quickly establishes the condition of comradeship as the sharing of a laughable incident. "Whose grave is this?" he inquired of a man who was standing near it. But, alas! she was beautiful—and beauty is a crime not to be forgiven by a jealous woman. “What did it matter?” she cried. Wood, glancing angrily at her husband. She leaned back in the corner of the cab with a little sigh of relief. She could smell the savory tinge of his sweat in the air.
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