He seemed to have expected them. Slowly and reluctantly she came to realize that Vivie Warren was what is called an “ideal. Instinctively she knew—some human recollection she had inherited—that she must not disturb him in this man-agony. A dark mass of wreckage, over which hung a slight mist of vapour, lay half in the ditch, half across the hedge, close under a tree from the trunk of which the bark had been torn and stripped. "Constance is yet living. You're easy to please. Sebastian spotted her among them instantly.
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