Jack was not half your age when he died. The colour slowly left her cheeks, the lines of her mouth hardened. The immense disillusionment that awaited him! The devastating disillusionment! She had a vague desire to run after him, to state her case to him, to wring some understanding from him of what life was to her. "Will you plead?" demanded Wild, harshly. When I carried you up here like a bride, that is the way I wanted us to be, Mary Lucia.
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