"I forgive him his disobedience. The candles—for McClintock never used oil in his dining room—were burning low in the sconces. Next moment, she had shut the bookshelf panel upon him. Treasure caves to explore! All through these trying days she had recurrently wondered what this strange young man would have to say that Dickens and Hugo had not already said. "Mother—dear mother! Once again, I beseech you to listen to me.
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