A momentary petrifaction, and terror had lent wings to her feet. Then for the first time she was conscious of an unaccountable and terrifying sensation. Her foster father, Larry, was the hard working son-of-a-bitch type with a disdain for suits. ‘Dieu du ciel, for what do you take me?’ ‘I don’t know,’ he threw at her. All these circumstances,—slight in themselves, but powerful in their effect,—touched the heart of the widowed carpenter, and added to his depression. Critically, she stared at her own features. He did not pocket it, but sat hefting it lightly from hand to hand, watching the girl thoughtfully. " "You cannot prevent my departure," replied Jack, dauntlessly, "and therefore your offer is no favour.
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