"Davies," said Rowland, delivering the babe, with a meaning look, to his attendant. Such was the simple code that displayed itself in all his thoughts. But the father, to go his way forever alone! The iron in the man!—the iron in this child of his! Wanting a little love, a caress now and then. I had no curiosity of that kind. He was a square-faced man of nearly fifty, with iron-gray hair a mobile, cleanshaven mouth and rather protuberant black eyes that now scrutinized Ann Veronica.
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