"Oh God! how fearfully my father is avenged!" "True," replied Jack, sternly; "but we have our uncle to avenge. Why should God give particular attention to such a prayer, when He had ignored all others? Certainly there was a trap somewhere. I suppose this is the sort of damned rubbish—” “Oh! Ssh, Peter!” cried Miss Stanley. Come into the parlour, Winifred, and dry your eyes directly, or I'll send you to bed. Even in this dread moment Ruth was conscious of a pathetic interest in the scattering pencils. He hesitated. . ’ ‘And me,’ came the guttural response, ‘I will certainly murder you the very next time I am compelled to see your face.
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