" "I feel it," replied Jack, in a tone of agony, "and I feel it more on my poor mother's account than my own. If you do not help me to read the riddle of yourself, Annabel, I think that very soon I shall be a candidate for the asylum. To wait for hours and hours for the night! The sea empty for days! You forgot the monotony, the endless monotony, that bends you and breaks you and crushes you—you forgot that!" Her voice had steadily risen until it was charged with passionate anger.
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