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’ She fairly pushed at Gerald, who grinned and gave in, moving back to the still open door. "It is the voice of inspiration," said Thames; "and I receive it as a solemn command. The lamp was spreading soot over everything and the reek of kerosene was stronger than usual. "Enough," said the widow, gratefully. Supposing that was it; at least, a solution to part of this amazing riddle? Supposing her father had made her assist him in the care of the derelicts solely to fill her with loathing and abhorrence for mankind? "Didn't you despise the men your father brought home—the beachcombers?" "No.
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