Ann Veronica forgot him as soon as she was through the gate, and her face resumed its expression of stern preoccupation. Her voice recalled him. As she did so, the ruffles to the jacket of her riding habit fell away, exposing livid blue bruises about her wrist, ugly in the light of day from the window at their back. "A capital instrument for my purpose," thought Jack, shouldering it, "and worth all the trouble I have had in procuring it. To make Ruth pay for the whole shot! To wash away his sin by crucifying her: that was precisely what he had set about.
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