Jack dropped the knife, and walked sullenly aside. And it is your own fault that your husband dallies with me. The thought of their faces, and particularly of her aunt’s, as it would meet the fact— disconcerted, unfriendly, condemning, pained—occurred to her again and again. Her mind went on generalizing. . . “I wonder,” she said, “how much you care. "Your servant, Sir Rowland," said the stranger, ducking his head, as he advanced.
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