She charged boldly into the space of Miss Miniver’s rhetorical pause. He was all alone, too. I didn't understand then, but I do now. Mother! do you know what you do? Would you sell yourself to this fiend?" "I would sell myself, body and soul, to save you," rejoined his mother, bursting from his grasp. The haste to send her upon her way now had but one interpretation—the recognition of his own immediate danger, the fear that if this tender association continued, he would end in offering her a calamity quite as impossible as that which had happened—the love of a man who was in all probability older than her father! The hurt was no less intensive because it was so ridiculous. He destroyed her clumsily made dolls whenever he found them. “In private. He seldom spoke, and drank with a persistence that was sinister. May I ask the nature of your interest in her?” He hesitated. I hope we may never find her again.
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