Michelle looked at Lucy's feet, still in the ugly brown loafers she had worn since last year. "Oh God! she is dying," exclaimed Jack in a voice suffocated by emotion. The girl wished that she had come afoot, despite the knowledge that she would have suffered many inconveniences, accidental and intentional jostling, insolence and ribald jest. "How is the patient?" he asked. She shattered the edifice he was building up of himself as a devoted lover, waiting only his chance to win her from a hopeless and consuming passion. She was no longer certain that she desired an Englishman, if she must judge of one in particular. "Sit beside me," continued Mrs.
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