Why? Love was a word of God's, and yet her father had denied it—denied it to the Book, denied it to his own flesh and blood. "Confusion!" cried he; "there is another boat in our wake. . S. At this gate two paths meet. Still, something had marked the face, something had left an indelible touch. I tried to have it out with him, but he wouldn’t have it out. She was only a few yards from the door, but lacked the courage to rise and fly.
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