Sometimes—a lonely forlorn child—she had gone to him and put her arms around his neck. He seemed wholly insensible to the rain, though it presently descended in torrents, and continued his search as ardently as before. For some time he could not stir, but felt sick and exhausted. ‘Didn’t mean it, love. He seemed so clean anyway, his fair 215 skin, his light brown hair, there almost seemed to be no point.
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