Lord Charvill’s sense of justice would not, however, allow him to repudiate his granddaughter, if indeed this female proved to be the infant lost to the family so many years ago. After all, what did it matter?—it or anything else in the world? She was within reach of his arms, beautiful, compelling, herself as it seemed suddenly conscious of the light which was burning in his eyes. " "And by whom were they both destroyed?" demanded his sister, raising herself by a painful effort, and regarding him with a searching glance. "By all means," rejoined Quilt. The pause lengthened, and he had the satisfaction of seeing despair melt the set mockery of Spurlock's mouth. ‘You are jealous!’ ‘Yes,’ he agreed simply. He jumped back, cursing. But I will go. Forgive me. There he sat, cheerfully friendly in his sex’s freedom—the man she loved, the one man she cared should unlock the way to the wide world for her imprisoned feminine possibilities, and he seemed regardless that she stifled under his eyes; he made a jest of all this passionate insurgence of the souls of women against the fate of their conditions.
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