’ The core of hurt rose up, tearing at her insides. She attacked me with a carving-knife, and, when I had disarmed her, the jade bit off a couple of fingers from my left hand. " "I hadn't thought of that. " "Don't anger him, my dear son," implored the poor widow, with a look of anguish at Jack. The smells of skewered fennel, roast chicken, and broiled pheasant saturated the air, and she could smell other wonderful aromas about them. The effort of self-repression cost him a sob.
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