‘Where was I? Oh yes. Considering his convictions he felt that his remark was a generous one. CHAPTER IV. In a little while—to-morrow—all these tender, beautiful emotions will pass away, and I'll become what I was yesterday, a cynical, miserly old spinster. But before the child could be committed to her care, it was wrested from the carpenter by Rowland. A woman hard to read, who seemed to delight in keeping locked up behind that fascinating rigidity of feature the intense sensibility which had been revealed to him, her master, only in occasional and rare moments of enthusiasm. The blow was scarcely dealt, when, with a bound like that of a tiger, Blueskin sprang upon him. It was Sunday evening—a soft delicious evening, and, from the happy, cheerful look of the house, none would have dreamed of the dismal tragedy so lately acted within its walls.
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