“You poor child!” he said; “don’t you see the infinite folly of these proceedings? Think! Think of the love and affection you abandon! Think of your aunt, a second mother to you. ‘He lacked moral fibre, did Nicholas. We stepped from the Embassy into the motor—and oh! I thought that he was dead. ‘Forgive my not rising to greet you,’ she said, holding out a claw-like hand. ’ Kimble chewed his lip, but his hostility was visibly lessening.
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