Lucy’s guts ached with jealousy and bitterness, building in a knot that twisted in her stomach, rag-like. At length, I shall ascertain my name. She fell into a deep delirium, whispering hoarsely to her dead mother, cursing God in Heaven, cursing her doctor, cursing herself as apparitions of devils and demons pulled at her with yellow ochre hands. “Go it, miss!” cried one. It was the blouse that gave Lucy away. You know not in what dark places my life has been cast; with what crimes it has been stained. "You," answered Jack, abruptly. “That is as you will,” she said.
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