‘Couldn’t even trouble to make a pretence of motherhood. Manning, relinquishing his cup without answering her question, “when I hear you talk of earning a living, it’s as if I heard of an archangel going on the Stock Exchange—or Christ selling doves. Checking an ominous cough, that, ever and anon, convulsed her lungs, the poor woman addressed a few parting words to her companion, who lingered at the doorway as if he had something on his mind, which he did not very well know how to communicate. Jack, whose clothes were covered with dust, and whose face was deathly pale from his recent exertion, looked more like a phantom than a living person. . He put it carefully aside, resolved to defer the attempt till night. ’ ‘I don’t want to think it,’ he said, and she thrilled to the savagery in his tone.
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