"But don't wait for me, Sir Cecil. She wore a plain black dress, reaching almost to her throat—her small oval face, with the large brown eyes, was colourless, delicately expressive, yet with something mysterious in its Sphinx-like immobility. Why? He could preach the Word and deny Love!—tame the savage heart, succour broken white men!—pray with his face strained with religious fervour! The idea made her dizzy because it was so inexplicable. He tried this sentence with expletives. "My father!" she whispered. Every other wall comprised bookcases, except where the doors appeared. ’ ‘I think he only wants to help you, miss,’ offered Jack.
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