Spare me, and I'll be quiet—quiet —quiet!" "Mother!" said Jack, advancing towards her. “Let me get you some water, Annabel. She had prepared herself to meet violent protest, a recurrence of that burning glance. You speak as one injured—as though I had been the one to take your name—as though you had been the one to make sacrifices. And if one were to love some one very much, it’s just so that one would be blindest, just when one wanted most to see. She glanced towards her sister, and curiously enough found in her face some faint reflection of her own rather sombre mirth. .
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