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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. Then her fingers moved. We did not know where to send … in case you died. . She had asked to borrow his pencil out of dire necessity. Immediately after it, he was off again, and that, let me tell you, was the last anyone saw of him. For a few minutes, she appeared scarcely sensible of his presence. "All life is a muddle, and we are all muddlers, more or less. She set her fingers in the hair and tugged, drawing him to a sitting posture and stooping so that her eyes would be on the level with his when he awoke. She could not help herself. " "You believe—you know it," replied Jonathan, fixing one of his sternest and most searching glances upon him.
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