The thought of their faces, and particularly of her aunt’s, as it would meet the fact— disconcerted, unfriendly, condemning, pained—occurred to her again and again. " "My courage gave out. Her head swam. Capes looked at one and not over one, spoke to one, treated one as a visible concrete fact. He first met her when he had caught her smoking behind the Joliet LaudrO-Matic one cool overcast day in late August.
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