‘Monsieur Charvill thought perhaps that his daughter would find not a welcome. “I am a fool,” he said. Fear nothing. ” He made a step toward her. "Ay, ay," rejoined Sheppard; "he may do what he pleases,—hang me, if he thinks proper,—if you wish it. No matter how often she came across this phase in love stories, there was never anything explanatory: as if all human beings perfectly understood. “I shouldn’t have waited,” she said. ‘For God’s sake, let go my hand,’ he begged.
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