" "Do not talk thus, dear mother," returned Jack, gazing anxiously at her pale countenance, "or I shall not be able to quit you. He is the kind of man who would much prefer a little dust in his eyes. He turned back at once. There was plenty of sweet water. Guiltily, she felt very little for him, and yet she wondered what he would be like. The young man's imagination suddenly pictured the man as a rock, loosed from its ancient bed, crumbling as it fell.
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