’ She dropped to her knees before her old nurse and hugged the workroughened hand with both her own, looking up into Martha’s face where slow tears were tracing down her cheek. A severe pang shot through Jack's heart, and he would have given worlds if he possessed them to have seen his friend once more. You’ll have to find someone else. Women are made like the potter’s vessels —either for worship or contumely, and are withal fragile vessels.
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