For I still love her mother. She could visualize the picture she had presented, particularly the battered papier-mâché kitbag at her feet. I don’t know why that should be so acutely humiliating. I consented to become Mrs. \" \"I'm sorry I didn't call. ’ She was silent for a space, and it was evident that this part of the story was still too painful to be recalled with ease. Sebastian physically restrained her as she hit and scratched at him, trying to touch her mother who went swiftly into her death throes.
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