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. Then she looked up the sweep of pine-trees to the towering sunlit cliffs and the high heaven above and then back to his face. At least I can give you a glimmer. " "Indeed!—who is it?" "Jack Sheppard.
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