I was sorry for what I did afterwards; for, I don't know why, but, poor, lady! with her pale face, and black eyes, she reminded me of my mother. She moved her hand off of his knee, deliberately slow. "Read the first chapter of Job"; beyond that, nothing. Hurt beyond what he could imagine by the selfishness and pride of her forbears, whose fateful disputes had robbed her of the life she should have led, the plucky little devil had taken matters into her own hands. ’ The expression on Emile Gosse’s face was vicious under the smile.
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