. ” “Bring her—here,” Hill muttered. . Each one had been different from the others, each had had a quality all its own, a distinctive freshness, a distinctive beauty. “Look here, father,” she said, with a change in her voice, “suppose I won’t stand it?” He regarded her as though this was a new idea. I, too, want to understand—to walk with my head in the light. "She is here," cried Jack, darting forward. E.
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