She had braved all obstacles to pursue her dream. "Mother!" cried Jack, springing towards her. In the second, she was wretchedly poor, and assailed by temptations of which you can form no idea. "Good-b'ye!" And with a cordial shake of the hand he took his departure. She didn’t like the shops, she didn’t like the other women’s faces; she thought the smirking men in frock-coats who dominated these establishments the most intolerable persons she had ever had to face. She was taken dreadfully ill on the road, with spasms and short breath, and swoonings,—worse than ever she was before. In the twilight he had ceased to be a person one could tackle and shame; he had become something more general, a something that crawled and sneaked toward her and would not let her alone. ‘I knew it. You see, the horse it does not belong to me, nor to the nuns. I’ve seen him, and he doesn’t a bit understand.
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