Promise me. “MY DEAR DAUGHTER,” it ran,—“Here, on the verge of the season of forgiveness I hold out a last hand to you in the hope of a reconciliation. ” She sat quite still looking at him. It might be supposed that these articles, when thrust together into the bag, would have jingled; but these skilful practitioners managed matters so well that no noise was made. You were afraid of me, afraid that I should have been shocked, afraid of the scandal. Gosse had hidden himself successfully then. ” She said bitterly.
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