She was her mother’s child, fair of face, doted upon and spoiled by her attentions. She should be lifted out of her narrow little life, and it should be all owing to him. But if I painted her as I'd like to, the natives would instantly distrust me; and I'd have to build up confidence all over again. " With no little effort—for the right words had a way of tumbling back out of reach—he marshalled his phrases, and as he uttered them, closed his eyes to lessen the possibility of a break. ” She nodded. "Why came she here?" "She could not resist the hand of fate which drew her hither," replied Sir Cecil, mournfully. Spurlock bent his head to the rail.
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