She shot a sudden glance at him. It arises, I think, from an over developed sense of humour. “I will tell you when to stop. Do you recall the night she showed you the face in the locket? Do you remember how she said—'If only my mother had lived'? Did you ever see anything more tender or beautiful?" "I remember. She had prepared herself to meet violent protest, a recurrence of that burning glance.
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