E. “Damn! Things are getting plainer. His face was much handsomer than Gianfrancesco’s, his lips thinner, his brow much more noble and wise. The knowledge breathed into her heart a satisfying warmth. Shame and electricity coursed through her veins, flowing directly from him in a flash flood. "What's that?—Jack's voice!" "It is," replied her son. He was really very proud of her, and extraordinarily angry and resentful at the innocent and audacious selfreliance that seemed to intimate her sense of absolute independence of him, her absolute security without him.
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