The colour slowly left her cheeks, the lines of her mouth hardened. I shall take to him as nat'ral as if he were my own flesh and blood afore long. Do have some tea, won’t you? If you must, go then. Because here was the haven for which she had been blindly groping: the positive abolition of all her father's rights in her—the right to drag her back. Fretting and fidgeting, he had, after an hour or so, turned to McClintock. "What shall I say? Shall I tell you, or shall I leave you in the dark—as I must always leave her? What shall I say except that I am accursed of men? Yes; I have loved something—her mother.
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