"I cannot—will not suffer you to remain here. " And, followed by the young couple, who gazed wistfully at the poor sufferer, he hastily quitted the room, and locked the door after him. “When one is happy—I don’t like to think of them. He recognized the handwriting, and turned a shade paler. I felt his heart. " Prudence felt the hands stiffen oddly; and again the thought came to her that perhaps this poor child's father had once been, perhaps still was, in the same category as this Taber. .
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