’ He sat looking her over in silence for a moment or two, his thoughts revolving around the name and the way it fitted so exquisitely on quite another set of features. ‘What in Hades d’ye mean, thanks to me? Want to blame anyone, blame that rapscallion who calls himself your father. For a time I didn't know we'd ever find you. Such ambitions as he had were stereotyped and material. Her mind turned and accused itself of having been cold and hard. Kneebone. I felt his heart.
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