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She stole her glances sideways like the rest of the women. "You mistake,—you are mine. “I didn’t know you objected to him, daddy. The taste of his sweat was intoxicating, like sweet brandy, like blood. "He does," replied Kneebone, "and, what is more surprising, it seems to increase. I wouldn't allow you to be honest even if you could be so,—which I doubt. “My dear child,” he said, “with me you need have no apprehension.
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