She kissed Cathy's soft cheek as she entered the warm kitchen. A wave of pity went over him—pity for the patient, the girl, and his friend. Besides, there are greater rascals than Jack Sheppard at liberty, Sir Rowland. They were in many respects so right; she clung to that, and shirked more and more the paradoxical conviction that they were also somehow, and even in direct relation to that rightness, absurd. I was his wife.
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