She must not tell Martha about Gerald. " McClintock saw indeed—two things: that the boy had no conceit and that this odd girl would always be giving. I’ve always wanted to look older. “Who’ll mind the baby nar?” was one of the night’s inspirations, and very frequent. “I never planned it—And now I have begun—” She felt acutely that he was entitled to explanations, and as acutely that explanations were impossible that night. She crawled into her small bed, dizzy with the thoughts of him, of kissing him.
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