’ Gerald drew his breath in sharply as Lord Charvill took a step towards his granddaughter, thrusting out his head. A farthing candle, stuck in a bottle neck, shed its feeble light upon the table, which, owing to the provident kindness of Mr. Hurt beyond what he could imagine by the selfishness and pride of her forbears, whose fateful disputes had robbed her of the life she should have led, the plucky little devil had taken matters into her own hands. “I cannot reason with you,” he said at last wearily. Perhaps that sealed letter was a form of confession, and thus relieved him on that score. \" added Shari. In no way could he be said to contribute to the gaiety of the little party. ’ ‘How can it be in dispute?’ frowned Mrs Sindlesham.
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