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The glass in the windows was broken—the roof unthatched—the walls dilapidated. Shari draped herself lazily upon her unmade bed. McClintock watched her interestedly until her golden head vanished below; then, with tolerant pity, he looked down at Spurlock, who had closed his eyes. Brendon always comes home with me, and tonight both are away. Her anger parlayed with her confusion, as she realized that the new marriage was about as optional as the first one and her hunger was growing inside her like a weed. The winter had turned sea and sky to a wet gray. Then Anna spoke more seriously than usual. “Home, of course,” she answered. ‘Come along. You act your part capitally, but it won't do.
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