“Why did you dare to do that?” Part 3 Each of them stared at the other, set in a universe that had changed its system of values with kaleidoscopic completeness. At night she would turn it in her fingers like a rosary bead. Jackson, to the swig. “MY DEAR DAUGHTER,” it ran,—“Here, on the verge of the season of forgiveness I hold out a last hand to you in the hope of a reconciliation.
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