" CHAPTER VI. "I yield to fate. Her fingers rested upon his. Now do you see his motive?" "I see nothing but your danger," replied his mother, tenderly. No! not even the derivation! But the fashion’s been set and in it you must be. . I suppose that’s the gist of the whole thing. She had been carrying them, he assumed, but then again the school had some particularly talented kids among the usual ruffians. Wood. I have tried not to tell you—tried to be simply your friend.
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