" "And now, father, your blessing—your consent!" cried Thames. Blotted out—Love! With infinite care, through nearly a thousand pages, her father had obliterated the word Love. I can’t even make myself care. Perhaps once it had desired some other human being intolerably. Jonathan had to feel his way. Abruptly he gripped her wrist. She closed the book that she had been pretending to read and gathered her black umbrella and her backpack, a childish accoutrement she despised. " "Curse your reward!" exclaimed Kneebone, angrily. " "'Zounds! Captain, I shall get my death of cold.
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