“John, don’t!” she cried. Sir John waved her back. There was a gulf of eight years between her and the youngest of her brace of sisters—an impassable gulf inhabited chaotically by two noisy brothers. He pressed the long shapely hand warmly in his. Charity for the ragtag and the bobtail of the Seven Seas, and none for his own flesh and blood. The miserable woman staggered, uttered a deep groan, and fell senseless on the straw. “By Jove!” he exclaimed.
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