“I would give my life for you. ’ ‘Aye, more’s the pity. "But, let that pass. And what did she do? Not only did she cut his hand in her rage, but she refused to let him help her, and then she ran away from him. For a time she could scarcely believe he was gone. Both had dropped the rather elaborate politeness of the dining-room, and in their faces an impartial observer would have discovered little lines of obstinate wilfulness in common; a certain hardness—sharp, indeed, in the father and softly rounded in the daughter—but hardness nevertheless, that made every compromise a bargain and every charity a discount. Prudence Remenham. She donned her gloves. ” He sat for a moment, absorbing.
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