"It is her child!" shrieked Rowland, in a voice heard above the howling of the tempest, "risen from this roaring abyss to torment me. ‘Oh! little Vee!’ he cried, ‘little Vee!’ and put his face between his hands and sat still for a long time before he broke out again. “I shot him. That was Leonardo’s motto. The pause lengthened, and he had the satisfaction of seeing despair melt the set mockery of Spurlock's mouth. He did not care whether the stories were accepted or not.
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