“Dear old Daddy,” she said, “he’ll make a fearful fuss. Sheppard put out her arms mechanically. Chuck had did himself in because Chuck was a flaming homosexual. She realized more and more the quality of the brink upon which she stood—the dreadful readiness with which in certain moods she might plunge, the unmitigated wrongness and recklessness of such a self-abandonment. In the midst of them there was a cart with a man in it—and that man was Jack—my son Jack—they were going to hang him.
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