She didn’t choose her man. ’ ‘That is what you thought of me. Stir a foot, and I strike. The important secret remained locked in my breast, but I resolved to be avenged. His quiet, kindly smile implied his serene disbelief in any confessible thing. Had she too been flying from something and had accepted this method of escape? But what frying-pan could be equal to this fire? All this led him back to the original circle. ’ Alderley laughed. "Not a syllable!" answered the carpenter, angrily. It was as if he could smell it on her. Because here was the haven for which she had been blindly groping: the positive abolition of all her father's rights in her—the right to drag her back.
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