She had not made friends with any; so they still eyed her askance. It was true. 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. ” She turned her face to the fire, gripped her hands upon her elbows, and drew her thin shoulders together in a shrug.
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