“Come in here a moment, will you, Blanche,” he said. Sebastian became furious and would have killed the man had he not been drafted into battle within the week. Having watched the funeral at some distance, Jonathan fancied he could discern the figure of Jack; but not being quite sure, he entered the church. The joy of being loved thrilled her as nothing before had ever done, a curious abstract joy which had nothing in it at that moment of regret or even pity. She was standing before a window, against the background of the rain-burdened April sky.
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