But they did not know how good she was, how perfect she was. I pray you, Gérard, do not fail me. A home MAY be a sort of cage, but still—it’s a home. Dear me, what a difference it has made! No one would ever think that we were sisters. ‘That is the man who tries to kill me, but he wounded instead my servant. He took her hand and looked into her eyes and spoke, divided against himself, in a voice that was forced and insincere. In spite of God and wasps and her father, she had stolen plums; and once because of discovered misdeeds, and once because she had realized that her mother was dead, she had lain on her face in the unmown grass, beneath the elmtrees that came beyond the vegetables, and poured out her soul in weeping. She was trying by some wonderful, secret, and motionless gymnastics to restrain her tears. And for twelve years he has been so; until his long security, well-nigh obliterating remembrance of the deed, has bred almost a sense of innocence within his breast. . Would you stand by me—and her?” “My dear Nigel!” she exclaimed. "Water!" he gasped. The lamp was not yet lit, and in the dim light he bent forward as though trying to look into her averted face.
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