"I am, Charcoal. . Anna, who had thrown aside her sealskin coat, wore a tight-fitting walking dress of some dark shade. 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.
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