His face was white. Rich folks, once. And yet, often when alone, he wondered: had McClintock been wrong, or had she ceased to care in that way? The possibility that she no longer cared should have filled him with unalloyed happiness, whereas it depressed him, cut the natural vanity of youth into shreds and tatters. " "But not for me," growled Terence, in an under tone. As time wore on, and they did not return, Mr. The few pence left in her purse would only provide a very scanty lunch. She wished her father and aunt would not enjoy their dinner with such quiet determination.
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