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“Your father is dead too, I believe,” he continued, “and your mother. She was as lovely in the spirit as in the flesh. Daughters were in the air that day. "Ah, I see it all!" he cried, with a quick glance. ‘Yes, miss. Why? He could preach the Word and deny Love!—tame the savage heart, succour broken white men!—pray with his face strained with religious fervour! The idea made her dizzy because it was so inexplicable. “I liked him, and I never undeceived him. There’s no family uniting instinct, anyhow; it’s habit and sentiment and material convenience hold families together after adolescence. “I’d never have a day of peace again, John. He wore a threecornered hat, a sandy-coloured scratch wig, and had a thick woollen wrapper folded round his throat. "You mustn't talk any more; the excitement isn't good for you. For nearly thirty years he had lived here in contented loneliness; then youth had to come and fill him with discontent.
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