8. The recollection of the forlorn and loveless years—stirred into consciousness by the unexpected confrontation—bent her as the high wind bends the water-reed. The latter began to heave himself up from the sand. Sometimes her straying mind would become astonishingly active—embroidering bright and decorative things that she could say to Capes; sometimes it passed into a state of passive acquiescence, into a radiant, formless, golden joy. They showered together. But what's to be done?" "The first thing I do," replied Jack, "will be to visit my poor mother in Bedlam.
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