Mr. "Come! I see the storm has blown over," cried Winifred, brightening up. " That satisfied something of her undefined hunger. ‘Are you going to come quietly, mademoiselle?’ he demanded with grim determination. A strange betrothal!—the primal idea of which was escape! The girl, intent upon abrogating for ever all legal rights of the father in the daughter, of rendering innocuous the thing she had now named the Terror: the boy, seeking selfcrucifixion in expiation of his transgression, changing a peccadillo into damnation! It was easy for Ruth to surrender to the idea, for she believed she was loved; and in gratitude it was already her determination to give this boy her heart's blood, drop by drop, if he wanted it. “We’re in for it. And then, for the first time, Wood noticed a small stream of blood coursing slowly down her cheek.
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