“MY DEAR DAUGHTER,” it ran,—“Here, on the verge of the season of forgiveness I hold out a last hand to you in the hope of a reconciliation. He saw the expression on the girl's face and understood what it signified, that it was the reflected pattern of his own. “I heard nothing,” he declared, “and my ears are good. Manning,” she began. . And now she had sent Jack away. “This,” he exclaimed, “must be either the indifference of an utterly callous nature, or it may be—ye gods, it may be—innocence.
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