My son went down after his death. She interrupted. She felt a hysterical desire to strike him, to burst out crying, to blurt out the whole miserable truth. Coarse as were the ruffian's notions of feminine beauty, he could not be insensible to the surpassing loveliness of the fair creature, who had thus solicited his attention. She got up, drew up her blind, and stared out of window at a dawn-cold vision of chimneys for a time, and then went and sat on the edge of her bed. “Come in.
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