It was a tale of battle, murder, and sudden death on the New York waterfront. "I've made no distinction between you, hitherto," answered Wood; "nor shall I do so, unless I'm compelled. He has told me sufficient of you—" "My dear," interposed Wood, "for goodness' sake—" "I will speak," screamed his wife, totally disregarding the interruption; "I will tell this worthless creature what I know about her,—and what I think of her. " "Oh, God!" cried Jack, "she does not know me. Had this not been the case, he must have refused even to see his Frenchified granddaughter. She leaned forward, her chin in her palms, her elbows on her knees, and she set her gaze upon his face and kept it there in dreamy contemplation. Their conversation became stilted. Stanley professed a great solicitude to warm his hands. It was his particular hobby, and the leisure he had to apply to it had given him a remarkable appraising eye.
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