At the threshold of the study he bade her good-night; but he did not touch her forehead with his lips. "My mother,—my poor mother!" exclaimed Jack. He drew her to him with his hands upon her waist. Why didn’t I die? Why does God hate me so? Why does He not want me? I didn’t die because I’m weak, because I am cursed! I hate this poisoned world! But most of all. ‘Do you think I could endure to hear you prattling your abominable French in my ear day by day? Enough to drive me straight into my grave. Most of it had been incomprehensible to her, or comprehensible in a way that checked further curiosity, but the figure of Vivien, hard, capable, successful, and bullying, and ordering about a veritable Teddy in the person of Frank Gardner, appealed to her. There was no reason why she shouldn’t be Capes’ friend. But if you wish to do old Wood a friendly turn, you may bring his wife.
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