All at once she realised that Kimble had halted, leaning heavily against the wall. To—to find myself. She felt much better. She had treated him badly; she had hurt him and her aunt; she had done wrong by their standards, and she would never persuade them that she had done right. I would have twice the problems that I have currently. It’s the poor dears who do, who know they will, know they can’t keep it up, who need to clutch at way-side flowers.
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