Its importance had vanished with her abandonment of compromise. Shakily, she rose with the sword and drove it through Rhea’s heart. When he saw, his roars could be heard across the lagoon. “MY DEAR DAUGHTER,” it ran,—“Here, on the verge of the season of forgiveness I hold out a last hand to you in the hope of a reconciliation. ” He crossed himself and grinned. One of his chair coolies had witnessed the transportation of Spurlock by stretcher to the sampan in the canal.
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