Here was an appalling fact: all her previous loneliness had been trifling beside that which now encompassed her and would for years to come. “I see nothing of my sister,” she said. Why am I here—thirty years of loneliness? Because I know women, the good and the bad; and because I could not have the good, I would not take the bad. “I hope you realize,” he went on, in a lower and less assured tone, “that I am in earnest—very much in earnest. "He'll not trouble you on the liquor side, Mac. “Agreed,” he said with queer exaltation, and his grip tightened on her hand. "Who isn't it like?" he asked, endeavouring to gain possession of the drawing, which, af the sound of his footstep, she crushed between her fingers.
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