” She paused for a moment. Had she said the words aloud? He pulled her close and she nuzzled her head on his chest. Supposing that was it; at least, a solution to part of this amazing riddle? Supposing her father had made her assist him in the care of the derelicts solely to fill her with loathing and abhorrence for mankind? "Didn't you despise the men your father brought home—the beachcombers?" "No. So absorbed was she by her passionate supplications that she was insensible to anything passing around her, until she felt a touch upon her shoulder, and heard a well-known voice breathe in her ear—"Mother!" She started at the sound as if an apparition had called her, screamed, and fell into her son's outstretched arms. "I call this ere crib the Little-Ease, arter the runaway prentices' cells in Guildhall. I guess we could go for a ride.
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