‘Might have forgiven him,’ he muttered under his breath, ‘if he hadn’t taken the babe. Lucy's ears were singing. He sat back in an easy chair with a hand upon each of the elbows, and looked steadfastly into the fire. McClintock's was a plantation of ten thousand palms, yielding him annually about half a million nuts. Let us walk about. The real ‘Alcide’,” she wound up with a faint smile across the table at him, “is here.
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