No! I do not even know that he cares for me. Her fanciful imagination no longer drew pictures of the aunt in the doorway of a wooden house, her arms extended in welcome. Such names shone brightly in the darkness, with black spaces of unilluminated emptiness about them, as stars shine in the night; but now—now it was different; now it was dawn—the real dawn. Wild in his own domain. “Look at me. She ignored his question. She had fallen asleep on the wooden bed, uncaring of lice or bedbugs.
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