CHAPTER XXV Spurlock pushed back his helmet and sat down in the white sand, buckling his knees and folding his arms around them—pondering. "Sir Rowland is your uncle—he will be your guardian—he will protect you. "To—to—no matter what," returned the widow distractedly. Your life, and that of your child, are in my power. “Am I dull?” she said. It isn’t just one among a number of important things; for her it is the important thing, and until she knows far more than I know of the facts of life, how is she to undertake it? So please; if you will, forget that you wrote that letter, and forgive this answer. But, by Jove! you are fierce! You are like those Roman women who carry stilettos in their hair. "But to the point," continued Wild, unconscious of the peril in which the remark had placed him,—"to the point.
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