There wasn’t, I know, between myself and my father. If only she had thought to plunge the scissors into her own heart! Hoddy … to return and find her either gone or dead! But even as the Wastrel's arms gathered her, there came the sound of hurrying steps on the veranda. It was in no sense confessional; it was a state of mind in the patient the doctor had already anticipated. It is of no use.
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