She could now see to read; so she stirred the manuscript about until she came upon the first page. His face was aquiline but sweet, the years had not yet taken the blush from his cheeks and his lips were similarly rubefacient. ‘Ha! It’s you, is it?’ He threw a glance at his two juniors. “There is something to be said for the lady-like theory after all,” she admitted. Take care he don't see you,—and bring me word where he goes, and what he does. Apparently she was always doomed to weep when she talked to her father. But if he speaks—I fear what he may tell.
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