The recollection of all her unhappiness, the loveless years, the unending loneliness, the injustice of it, rolled up to her lips in verbal lava. "Well, like or not, I'm greatly pleased with it, and must beg it from you as a memorial——" "Of what?" she interrupted, startled by his change of manner. She was her mother’s child, fair of face, doted upon and spoiled by her attentions. " "Swear it!" "I do. He himself had deadened the sound by closing the door. You would suffer the torments of the damned for what you had done. ‘Indeed?’ Gerald said politely. See what your misconduct has deprived you of —see what you might have been. ‘And if not her, for she is dead, then me. ” She replied. What else could one say? I left him to suppose—a registry perhaps. Spurlock. " Still the voice was without emotion; calm, colourless. It creaked slightly.
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