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. She looked at me as though I were some unclean thing, as though my soul were weighted with every sin in the calendar. "Is there no charity? Isn't it understood?" "Of course it is! In the present instance I can offer it and you can't, or shouldn't. To many in that crowded solitude it came as an extraordinary relief.
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