It took my breath away. He hung over her—he and his loan to her and his connection with her and that terrible evening—a vague, disconcerting possibility of annoyance and exposure. Lucy sat in back of Jane Lenihan, who never spoke to her. Your mother, for what it’s worth to you—for there’s nothing for you here, by God!—was the woman I chose for Nicholas. Somehow to-night—I don’t know. Jonathan smiled contemptuously.
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