She closed the book that she had been pretending to read and gathered her black umbrella and her backpack, a childish accoutrement she despised. “I am afraid,” she answered, “that one’s friends can judge only of the externals, and the things which matter, the things inside are realized only by oneself— stop. She gazed steadily out of the window at that arc of glittering lights. I don’t mind it. Having drunk as much as he thought prudent, and thanked his unknown friend for his attention, Jack again lay down on the straw, and indulged himself with another nap, intending to get up as soon as it was perfectly dark. His vicious abusiveness vanished. “It’s the spring,” he said. "Bah!" cried Jack, contemptuously; "nobody's disgraced and ruined unless he's found out. “It is hard to express one’s self, but I do want to be honest with you. Sheppard, and regarding her with an insolent and threatening glance.
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