” He left the room, and she stood motionless, with flaming cheeks, listening to his retreating footsteps. The lady's name's engraved inside, but so small I can scarcely read it. She thrust at him, following, almost spitting him as he crashed against the altar, rocking the huge candlesticks and the vessels that stood on it. " "Never mind it, my dear Mrs. Wait!" He released himself from his aunt's embrace, ran to the trunk and fetched the old coat. Be kind to her. But there was no sign from her. " The doctor hesitated, puffing his tobacco hastily. He hated himself a little for it. Supposing that was it; at least, a solution to part of this amazing riddle? Supposing her father had made her assist him in the care of the derelicts solely to fill her with loathing and abhorrence for mankind? "Didn't you despise the men your father brought home—the beachcombers?" "No. ‘Well, nothing,’ uttered her betrothed crossly, before Gerald could answer.
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