Voilà tout. Clotilde rushed out of the house, carrying her boy and tugging her girl by the ear. She held it away from her with an instinctive repulsion, born of her unconquerable antipathy to the touch of strangers. She closed the book that she had been pretending to read and gathered her black umbrella and her backpack, a childish accoutrement she despised. “I wonder why I am always hungry nowadays. As he fell, he caught at the projecting masonry. His bodily suffering, however, was nothing compared with his mental anguish. His throat filled; he wanted to weep. Raising the bowl in his right hand, Jack glanced towards the balcony, in which the group of ladies were seated, and begged to drink their healths; he then turned to Kneebone and the others, who extended their hands towards him, and raised it to his lips.
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