” “You would let him—knowing—all that you know?” “Why not? She is my flesh and blood. A siphon and a whisky bottle stood before him. But this is all different. Holding down the light, he perceived that the wounded man had risen to the surface, and was trying to clamber up the slippery sides of the well. The thing rankled in her mind night and day. Her words, as she said them, seemed to her to mean nothing, and there was so much that struggled for expression.
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