Sometimes I tremble, Anna, to think how near I came to passing through life without a single glimpse, a moment’s revelation of this greatest and most awful of mysteries, the mystery of primaeval nature. . Warm life was behind that always, even if it slept. She had found that proof. Holcroft, we may have been mistaken. She did not enter the cabin at once, but paused on the threshold and stared at the silent, recumbent figure in the bunk. ” “It’s the perpetual trouble,” he said, “of parent and child.
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