You had better let me go again. " "The boy's not at my house," replied Wild. And yet, often when alone, he wondered: had McClintock been wrong, or had she ceased to care in that way? The possibility that she no longer cared should have filled him with unalloyed happiness, whereas it depressed him, cut the natural vanity of youth into shreds and tatters. ‘Now then, my girl, why the long face?’ Melusine had no hesitation in placing her trouble before her old nurse, for it was Martha who had made her aware of her true history. “As a matter of fact, I deserve to. There are men in the Lowndean who laugh at him—simply laugh at him.
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