Mother—dear mother!" he added, clasping her in his arms, "Look at me again. ‘Oh, Jacques, I cannot forgive myself!’ ‘Never you fret, miss,’ he uttered at once in a faint voice. She dragged the broken bottle across her carotid artery, creating an inch-deep gash upon her throat. ” “I wish I could make you visible to yourself. Then, quite insensibly, her queenliness had declined. Indeed, she did not want to think of him as loving her.
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