” Annabel shrugged her shoulders. "Not as I loved mine. Wanton! Had I been one, even God would have forgiven me, understanding. Why should some things and not others open the deeps?” “Well, that might, after all, be an outcome of selection—like the preference for blue flowers, which are not nearly so bright as yellow, of some insects. God forgive you!" "May He, indeed, forgive me!" returned Trenchard, crossing himself devoutly; "but my guilt is not the less heavy, because your child escaped. ‘No, for you had your own selfish plans already made, that is now seen.
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