" He shook his head. ’ You have no right to call yourself ‘Alcide. McClintock, striking a match to relight his cigar, broke the spell. He was alert, well-groomed, and yet—perhaps in contrast with the more volatile French type—there was a suggestion of weight about him, not to say heaviness. "In Heaven's name! what's all this?" cried Wood. 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. "Oh, yes!—for always!" He took her hands and pressed them upon his thrumming heart; and in this attitude they remained for some time. Though nearly dark, there was still light enough left to enable him to discern surrounding objects. He took the first step toward the stairs, and met the restraining hand of McClintock. And mind he doesn't stir out of your sight, on any pretence whatever, till I call. Here they were regaled with another plentiful meal by the hospitable carpenter, who personally superintended the repast.
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