It was a bright and beautiful day: so bright, so beautiful, that even her sad heart was cheered by it. "I was just thinking of you Jack. She realized more and more the quality of the brink upon which she stood—the dreadful readiness with which in certain moods she might plunge, the unmitigated wrongness and recklessness of such a self-abandonment. His lips parted in a rare smile. She felt scrawny, lanky, badly dressed in a baggy black T-shirt, sweaty, not at all beautiful; not even pretty.
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