‘You speak as if you expected to meet her again, Gerald. "To-morrow it will be mine. She had black hair, fine eyebrows, and a clear complexion; and the forces that had modelled her features had loved and lingered at their work and made them subtle and fine. Where was the harm in letting her go? She could not get far. But I must—I ought—” “I MUST talk about this. The wish was vain: and, endeavouring to banish every earthly thought, he addressed himself deeply and sincerely to prayer. He had never wanted daughters. Wood laughed louder than ever. Do you know whoso portrait this is?" "I do not," replied Thames, repressing his tears, "but I believe it to be the portrait of my father.
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