” “I wonder,” said Mr. He thought, too, of the fretful invalid who lay in the next room to his, whose money had created his business and made his position in the world. But he was destined to have every tide of feeling awakened—every wound opened. His lawful wife; but nothing more; beyond that she was only an idea, a trust. But now it’s beads by the cask—like the hold of a West African trader. Take it, I tell you. "I have not many days,—perhaps, not many hours to live. After all there are other things. No one seeing you together could doubt that she is your granddaughter. ‘Cousin? But I am a fool. "Mrs.
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