The rejection caught him like a slap in the face. He took into his soul some of the father's misery, some of the daughter's, to mingle with his own. ” He took them from her and read them. ” She shook her head. It now came to him with an added thrill how well she had told her story; simply and directly, no skipping, no wandering hither and yon: from the first hour she could remember, to the night she had fled in the proa, a clear sustained narrative. But, here they are. For heaven’s sake, give him some Madeira or something, Gerald! Anything to calm him down. I had a hunch.
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