"I could almost forgive the wretch the injury he did me in depriving me of my poor dear wife—No, not quite that," he added, a little confused. But all these hours, trying to teach the child wariness toward life, and the moment his back was turned, this! He was, perhaps, still dazed by the inner revelation—his own interest in Ruth. Perhaps I've been mad all these years; I don't know. She found she was trembling at his nearness and full of a thrilling dread that he might touch her. ‘How could you possibly know it?’ ‘I know it,’ Lucilla told him frostily, ‘because Dorothée told me that Madame Valade went off with Gerald positively purring in her ear—which is a thing he never does—and came back with him looking like the cat after cream. She was lovely, painted like the porcelain doll he had always wanted her to be. How Jonathan Wild's House was burnt down 458 XXXI. \"483-4492. ” “I cannot do it!” he cried hoarsely.
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