We can be friends again. And yet, often when alone, he wondered: had McClintock been wrong, or had she ceased to care in that way? The possibility that she no longer cared should have filled him with unalloyed happiness, whereas it depressed him, cut the natural vanity of youth into shreds and tatters. The knots and broken pale that made the garden-fence scalable, and gave access to the fields behind, were still to be traced. Mr. See what crime does, Sir.
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