“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. Sindlesham tried. ’ ‘And where do you propose to go?’ enquired Gerald carefully. A bumper round, gentlemen. I feel a mixture of beast and uncle. As she looked in this direction, the thief-taker raised his eyes—those gray, blood-thirsty eyes!—their glare froze the life-blood in her veins.
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