” “You would let him—knowing—all that you know?” “Why not? She is my flesh and blood. . Dollis Hill revisited. ‘And if it was not for that imbecile of a Gérard, who has put his soldiers to watch for me, it would not need that I make it. He would discuss something she had been reading, and he would give her some unexpected angle, setting a fictional character before her with astonishing clearness. She looked at me as though I were some unclean thing, as though my soul were weighted with every sin in the calendar. Standing on tiptoe, on a joint-stool, placed upon the bench, with his back to the door, and a clasp-knife in his hand, this youngster, instead of executing his appointed task, was occupied in carving his name upon a beam, overhead. Most of my successes in life have been made with a sort of reckless vigor. He taught her how to read and write in Latin and Greek, often rewarding her for her efforts with a flower or a trinket. She turned there and beckoned.
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