Looked all over that dratted convent of yours—or at least Trodger and the men did so—but no sign of them. . She had never said anything so horrible to anyone in her life. Cathy sighed. The effort of self-repression cost him a sob. The dog was, in a sense, a gift of the gods. "Lean on me," said Jack. Then came the great day. In the twilight he had ceased to be a person one could tackle and shame; he had become something more general, a something that crawled and sneaked toward her and would not let her alone.
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