She hated to leave; for this hour would be the most interesting. Through this, his last trial, Jack's spirits never deserted him. She offers me no explanation, permits me absolutely no hope. ‘She’s perfectly right. "Poor Jack!" cried Winifred, burying her face in her lover's bosom. For a moment her thoughts led her back to the evening when she and Courtlaw had stood together before the window of her studio in Paris, before the coming of Sir John had made so many changes in her life.
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