“You did good!” She closed her eyes and rested in the moment, imagining a normal life where she would go to college, have babies with John, watch her children have children, live, and die as she had always wanted to. The room was reeling, or was it that she was going to faint? She recovered herself with a supreme effort. "You were saying—?" "I started to say something; that is all. A stack of chimneys, on the house above them, had yielded to the storm, and descended in a shower of bricks and stones. I ought to have seen—” “It doesn’t matter a rap—if you’re not disposed to resent the—the way I behaved. A young man —almost a boy, slight, dark, and with his brother’s deep grey eyes—came across the room to her. “Mr. ” Lucy commented, dismayed.
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