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It was an impulse. " "Pshaw!" said Wild. ” He declared that no book could be satisfactory that left a bad taste in the mouth, however much it seized and interested the reader at the time. CHAPTER XVII. Even so much allusion as this to that family shadow, she felt, was an immense recognition of her ripening years. She shook her head, almost breaking a smile. ‘And I’ll say it as often as I choose, you confounded impertinent wench! Who do you think you’re talking to? I’m your grandfather, girl. Afraid there'll be a love-affair. ‘She?’ ‘Damnation!’ He saw her frown, and added at once, ‘I beg your pardon, ma’am. Her tone was hoarse with passion. But I do not know you at all, in truth, and I do not understand why you do this. ” “You do not flatter me,” she laughed.
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