His diminutive hand flew out from behind his back like a wounded bird. " "To-morrow will be too late," replied the widow, in a hollow voice, "I feel it will. ‘But who was he, Gerald?’ ‘A damned condottiere,’ exploded Gerald, forgetting his company. Ann Veronica found herself incompetent, undignified, and detestable, holding on desperately to a hardening antagonism to her father, quarrelling with him, wrangling with him, thinking of repartees—almost as if he was a brother. '—'No fear o' that,' thought I. As she learned more and more of his knowledge, she began to realize how much faith and trust he invested in her. "But this need give you no uneasiness," pursued Jonathan; "Mrs.
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