"Jack!" Her son averted his gaze. Auntie has taken the nails out of my palms, but the scars will always be there. "What did you do?" he asked, in a broken voice. She ought to have been disposed to faint and scream at all these happenings; she ought to have maintained a front of outraged dignity to veil the sinking of her heart. And think things out. " "Go on, tell me," he urged, enchanted.
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