Come!” They went out together and he called a hansom. She had a horrible glimpse of the once nice little old lady being also borne stationward, still faintly battling and very muddy—one lock of grayish hair straggling over her neck, her face scared, white, but triumphant. Her hormones were raging stupidly. He seemed to possess a penetration and cunning beyond his years—to hide a man's judgment under a boy's mask. “As if it could possibly matter what such a person thinks of you. Her wedding gown! She wondered if the spirit of the unknown mother looked down upon her.
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