Jonathan had not deceived him. Without her, it was lonely. His obtuse hands punched and jabbed at her uselessly, then he throttled her neck with the last of his strength. But he was destined to have every tide of feeling awakened—every wound opened. But I was sorry for poor Jack—as I am still, and hoped he would mend. Couldn’t fit it inside, but the horse’s blanket lay over it, and, like I said, as long as no one rides him and don’t remove the blanket, I think it’ll stay hid.
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