E. It was her foster brother Mike, on his way to the bathroom. "I don't know how it is," he added in a low voice to Thames, as they were left alone, "but I've a strange foreboding of ill. And yet, often when alone, he wondered: had McClintock been wrong, or had she ceased to care in that way? The possibility that she no longer cared should have filled him with unalloyed happiness, whereas it depressed him, cut the natural vanity of youth into shreds and tatters. If I were Mr.
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