Why? Love was a word of God's, and yet her father had denied it—denied it to the Book, denied it to his own flesh and blood. There was a strip of old rose brocade in the making that set an ache in the girl's heart for the want of it. She remembered Taber's hat. " "Perhaps, I wasn't," returned Thames, gloomily, as the remembrance of Jonathan Wild's foul insinuation crossed him. . " "I will, when I've had my revenge," muttered Jack. ” Her answer was terse.
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