” “You asked your father for a reason!” Miss Miniver repeated. I have just come from him. The gallant woollen-draper was now in his thirty-sixth year. “It jars. ‘Not entirely English then. ’ Releasing her, he turned and walked swiftly towards the door. CHAPTER II. Pure luck! If the boy had grown a moustache or a beard, a needle in the haystack would have been soft work. Proof that the scoundrel had risen from the dead—for he was dead to his father! He glared at the female whose appearance in England had revived those painful memories—churning unbearably since Brewis Charvill had brought him the news and put him in the worst of tempers—and the fury spilled out. He leaned forward to better drink her in.
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