” Lucy implored. I had a sort of idea,” he went on, “that you were starting life all over again, and it seemed awfully plucky. He sat back in an easy chair with a hand upon each of the elbows, and looked steadfastly into the fire. ” “It’s wonderful. The drunken beachcombers; the one-sided education; the utter loneliness of a white child without playfellows, human or animal, without fairy stories, who for days was left alone while the father visited neighbouring islands, these pictures sank far below their actual importance. "She was mine before you ever saw her.
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