Do not let her think worse of me than I deserve,—or even so ill. “We’ll clean up everything tidy,” said Capes. In a very definite sense we are in the wrong —hopelessly in the wrong. It’s—Mrs. "I was right," replied Jack, returning as coolly as if nothing had happened. A dark mass of wreckage, over which hung a slight mist of vapour, lay half in the ditch, half across the hedge, close under a tree from the trunk of which the bark had been torn and stripped.
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