Water soaked her through in five minutes. It seemed to her that her father was in some inexplicable way meaner-looking than she had supposed, and yet also, as unaccountably, appealing. You are different, Lucia, undamaged even after what you have been through, still pure of heart. I want to talk to you, and I must return tomorrow. I’m not Gerald, remember. ToC About an hour after this, Jack ventured to emerge from his place of concealment. He took into his soul some of the father's misery, some of the daughter's, to mingle with his own. The ink, contained in a grimy bottle unearthed in the outhouse, was old, and made blotches as soon as it touched the paper.
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