’ ‘Yes, well, I was too young to see it,’ the captain said, tying a knot in his makeshift bandage. Mama will be expecting me. For the past four weeks mirrors had been her delight, a new toy. He had pictured her, if indeed she had ever had the courage to do this thing, as sitting alone, convulsed with guilty fear, starting at her own shadow, a slave to constant terror. He thought rationally; that is to say, he thought clearly, as a child thinks clearly. Then her eyes flashed.
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