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. A little Madeira seemed to recover her enough to resume the discussion. Perhaps the Parisian atmosphere had affected him. “Annabel,” she said, “I have never asked you for your confidence. My goodness gracious. "Yes, your son, Madam.
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