“But I—I went to Nigel Ennison for help. 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. Near by stood Ah Cum and the young unknown, the former protesting gently, the latter insistent upon his demands. “I shall have to go through the building.
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