Rousing himself, he went to the door. Mirages, over which he was constantly throwing bridges which were wasted efforts, since invariably they spanned solid ground. " "I've had the hard work to do, at all events," rejoined Jack, "But I won't complain. I felt somehow I’d hurt you. The echo of those kindly words seemed still to ring in her ears. If you will think only of one trifling aspect—the inconvenience it must be to us to explain your absence—I think you may begin to realize what it all means for us.
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