He knew that tragedy was as blind as justice, that it struck the child and the grown-up impartially. I’m not sure if Janine cared. He shrieked with agony, and clung with desperate tenacity to the roughened stones. She had a horrible glimpse of the once nice little old lady being also borne stationward, still faintly battling and very muddy—one lock of grayish hair straggling over her neck, her face scared, white, but triumphant. ” “Above all, no one except I can know what you are. That’s all.
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