Why on earth couldn’t he leave her to grow in her own way? Her pride rose at the bare thought of return. After all, the Wastrel was in luck: he was alone. Ms. Lucy did not want to have to kill the mother, as she hated more than anything to kill women, no matter what their sins. I—well, I lost my temper. . She forgot Anna’s sacrifices, forgot her own callousness, forgot the burden which she had fastened upon her sister’s shoulders. It was a grand life.
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