Her stifled misery had betrayed her. Jack had been touched in the morning, but he was now completely prostrated. Being a Chinaman in blood and instinct, he despised all spinsters; they were parasites. “They are full of the usual foolish stories. As he entered the shop, a tall portly personage advanced to meet him, whom he at once recognised as the present proprietor. “I expected you this morning,” he said. The sun was setting, casting long dreary shadows across deformed apple trees.
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