She looked at him mournfully. " "Farewell, Jack," cried twenty voices. Then, after Capes had been through her work and had gone on, it came to her that the fabric of this life of hers was doomed to almost immediate collapse; that in a little while these studies would cease, and perhaps she would never set eyes on him again. ’ She edged sideways a little more, her eyes on the pistol in his hand. Lucy wore it every day from then on.
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