This was the first young man who had drawn from her something more than speculative interest. It’s a sort of home-leaving instinct. She looked at the white ankle socks on her feet and was reminded simultaneously of her pajama outfit and the suitcase that still lay underneath the bed. Jackson: "ha! ha!" "Not in the least, Ma'am," echoed Mr. ‘And if not her, for she is dead, then me. And mind, your life,—more than your life—hangs upon your choice.
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