" "I feel it," replied Jack, in a tone of agony, "and I feel it more on my poor mother's account than my own. Something like a snarl crossed his face, and ignoring the pistol, he moved forward, seizing her shoulders. She fought him with tooth and nail. The chromatic fiction with which he relieved his mind glanced but slightly at this aspect of life, and never with any quality of guidance. That delightful sense of free, unembarrassed movement was gone. ” “It is,” he replied, “the one humiliation of my life.
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