‘Oh, Jacques, I cannot forgive myself!’ ‘Never you fret, miss,’ he uttered at once in a faint voice. Seeing John in Chemistry was the worst. Dim possibilities that she would not seem to look at even to herself gesticulated in the twilight background of her mind. Except for the dull eyes and the extreme pallor of his face, there was nothing else to indicate that he was deep in liquor. “His back was towards me,” Anna said. The cook tried to ply her with spiced meat and fish soup.
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