"Mother! dear mother!" cried Jack, folding her to his breast. This isn’t the place. . “She has nothing to be afraid of,” he continued. There were moments when she doubted whether the whole mass of movements and societies and gatherings and talks was not simply one coherent spectacle of failure protecting itself from abjection by the glamour of its own assertions. But his grief was of short duration. Sebastian observed coolly, savoring the outline of Lucy’s feral figure hunching over Michelle’s gradually diminishing body.
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