Why? Love was a word of God's, and yet her father had denied it—denied it to the Book, denied it to his own flesh and blood. "Go—go!" "I see what you mean," rejoined Blueskin, tossing a large case-knife, which he took from his pocket, in the air, and catching it dexterously by the haft as it fell; "you owe Jonathan a grudge;—so do I. "No, lad," said McClintock, his tone becoming kindly. Each became frightfully aware of the other as a plastic energetic body, of the strong muscles of neck against cheek, of hands gripping shoulder-blade and waist.
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