" "Thank you! thank you!" faltered Jack, in a voice full of emotion. “Michelle, it’s me, Lucy. It is not for myself I fear. “What did it matter?” she cried. The movement was fatal to her son. ’ ‘Poor little devil,’ said Gerald, genuinely sorry for her. 4. My son went down after his death. Too late now. ” His fingers touched hers for a moment under the ledge of the box.
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