“A glass slipped from the table,” he explained. She went on her way now no longer dreaming and appreciative, but disturbed and unwillingly observant behind her mask of serene contentment. . "It is her child!" shrieked Rowland, in a voice heard above the howling of the tempest, "risen from this roaring abyss to torment me. Gazing at her with eyes blinded with tears, he imprinted one brotherly kiss upon her lips.
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