“Want to see Mr. ’ ‘Alone, miss?’ ‘Certainly alone. We’re hard stuff!” Then she went on: “To think that is my father! Oh, my dear! He stood over me like a cliff; the thought of him nearly turned me aside from everything we have done. Don’t be afraid to go on thinking it. ’ Which effectually silenced her. Whether it was the nun’s habit or the harlot’s clothing that distressed her more, he could not begin to guess. "The poor young man!" she said.
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