Until that moment, Jarvis had imagined the child to be safe in the wet-nurse’s cottage. Certainly you have a reason. She found herself mildly entertained by staring at the houses through the rain as she walked home, all cast in a gray blurry film noir gauze of rain. Gosse backed, not even attempting to parry so unorthodox a use of the foil. She had a feeling at his departure as of an immense cavity, of something enormously gone; she could not tell whether it was infinite regret or infinite relief.
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