Womanhood is sacred to me. Daughters were in the air that day. ’ Jack blinked. She forgot Anna’s sacrifices, forgot her own callousness, forgot the burden which she had fastened upon her sister’s shoulders. If only sometimes he would grow angry at her, impatient! But his tender courtesy was unfailing; and under this would be the abiding bitterness of having mistaken gratitude for love. She went further: she doubted that he was fully conscious of where he was. He stood still, almost breathless. This will be safer than cutting his throat on shore. Bit priggish, isn’t it? And if he only knew it—so absurd.
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