“MY DEAR DAUGHTER,” it ran,—“Here, on the verge of the season of forgiveness I hold out a last hand to you in the hope of a reconciliation. She had hardly noticed the loss of her dagger, so strong had been the waves of relief that attacked her on hearing that Jack had returned from death’s door. He had an appointment in Jersey, you know, after he left the army. "Do not steel your heart against him, dear Thames," interposed Winifred.
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