Sure of foot, noiseless, he made the veranda and paused at the side of one of the screened windows. "Sir Rowland is your uncle—he will be your guardian—he will protect you. ‘God loves you, even if your father didn’t. She had removed her hat and utterly disarranged her already unruly black locks by running agitated fingers through them. "In Heaven's name! what's all this?" cried Wood.
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