Then he would turn his face to her, and she would have to think of herself in his eyes. ‘I assure you it was mutual. When things are at the worst, they'll mend. But then you're an adopted son, and that makes all the difference. ” He looked at her intensely, his dark eyes deepened with sleeplessness. He took a handful of almonds and raisins that she held out to him—for both these young people had given up the practice of going out for luncheon—and kept her hand for a moment to kiss her finger-tips. She hung for a moment, and then went on, conclusively, “Until we have the vote that is how things WILL be. I didn’t know. He gurgled as if trying to communicate. A gaunt, powerful man: no feature of his face decided, and yet for all that it had the significance of a countenance hewn out of rock.
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