Her momentary instinct was to run to him and be comforted, like the old times. They had both been unsuccessful. And, as he was about to put himself into a posture of defence, his mother clasped him in her arms. If he laid his own suspicions boldly before the girl, and in the end the boy came clean, he would always be haunted by the witless cruelty of the act. The wedding procession passed on, and the cynical rabble poured in behind. She became as The Tigress, a free thing.
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