CHAPTER XXVII His idea, cleverly planned, was to shatter her resistance, to confound her suddenly by striking her mind with words which would rob her coherent thought. Then she glanced at the cards again, over which her aunt’s many-ringed hand played, and then at the rather weak, rather plump face that surveyed its operations. Then she slowly straightened, releasing him. “My heart, my dove, I only want to heal you. She had underestimated his animal ability to sense weakness. “By Jove!” he exclaimed.
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