Abruptly, Gerald turned. ‘You said she was beautiful. A father is in debt, we'll say. Stanley was inclined to think the censorship should be extended to the supply of what he styled latter-day fiction; good wholesome stories were being ousted, he said, by “vicious, corrupting stuff” that “left a bad taste in the mouth. The candles—for McClintock never used oil in his dining room—were burning low in the sconces. “The one who used to live at Lyndmore. I'll go with you. His voice had changed, the joy had gone out of it; and she understood that something from the past had rolled up to spoil this hour. The whole force of the constables, jailers and others was required to keep the crowd out of the Hall. His attitude toward her was purely intellectual, free of any sentimentality, utterly selfish. Prior to the great adventure, her mirrors had been the still pools in the rocks after the ebb.
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