Daughters were in the air that day. Every time he left a room, she chastised herself bitterly for her own profound weakness. Three times he uttered a phrase: "A djinn in a blue-serge coat!" And each time he would follow it with a chuckle—the chuckle of a soul in damnation. Her grave fine face, her warm clear complexion, had already aroused his curiosity as he had gone to and fro in Morningside Park, and here suddenly he was near to her and talking freely and intimately. . She was to have fifteen pounds, and no more. But never had the hand touched her with a father's caress; never had he taken her into his arms; never had he kissed her.
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