When the lad is fit to be moved, we’ll bring him home. Part 3 At last the evening was over, and Capes and his wife had gone down to see Mr. And yet, often when alone, he wondered: had McClintock been wrong, or had she ceased to care in that way? The possibility that she no longer cared should have filled him with unalloyed happiness, whereas it depressed him, cut the natural vanity of youth into shreds and tatters. Yes, there was someone there. Wanton!… This, then, was what her father had meant.
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