“Why do you hate me again, my love?” He seemed to brighten, feeding upon the intensity of her emotion. “I wonder if you give me a thought. Challenge accepted. Analysis would come later, when the primitive conscience, satisfied, would cease to dominate his thought and action. An audible crack sounded in the kitchen and Mark slumped backwards, unconscious. Thames took it, and beheld the portrait of a young man, apparently—judging from his attire—of high rank, whose proud and patrician features certainly presented a very striking resemblance to his own. All we have to apprehend is a rescue.
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