Why should I?” “At last,” he murmured, “at last I have found you. " "Hurt her? It would tear her to pieces; God knows she has had enough. Determined, however, not be taken with life, he held on. “I’ve got bad faults. ” She shifted again. The girl stood with her hands behind her back, sulky, resolute, and intelligent, a strand of her black hair over one eye and looking more than usually delicate-featured, and more than ever like an obdurate child. McClintock's initial revulsion was natural; he was an honest man.
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