’ ‘Let’s. A piece of old blanket was fastened across her shoulders, and she had no other clothing except a petticoat. \" Mark was tall and skinny, a mop of brown hair over a pillar of freckles. McClintock did not exaggerate his ability to read faces. 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. But you! Why the devil did you marry her? That's the thing that confounds me. On that basis alone, he had no right to give or accept love.
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