His face changed and she saw, with a stab at her heart, the dawning of irritation in his eyes. Perhaps some one had kissed the brow that was now so cadaverous, rubbed that sunken cheek with loving fingers, held that stringy neck with passionately living hands. He went into the study and sat down at his table, but not to write. ’ You used to declare that you hated the name. . "It is addressed to my mother," he added, as his eye glanced rapidly over it, "and by my father.
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