” “You alarm me,” she murmured, smiling. Say I’m out, away, anything!” “I am sorry, sir,” the man answered, “but she had sent away her hansom before I answered the bell. Her white shirt was mired with a central bloodstain, his pants caked with mud. Passing the old rectory, and still older church, with its reverend screen of trees, and slowly ascending a hill side, from whence he obtained enchanting peeps of the spire and college of Harrow, he reached the cluster of well-built houses which constitute the village of Neasdon. But the father, to go his way forever alone! The iron in the man!—the iron in this child of his! Wanting a little love, a caress now and then. It’s the poor dears who do, who know they will, know they can’t keep it up, who need to clutch at way-side flowers. "How long shall I be here?" he asked.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDMuMTQ1LjEwNC4yNCAtIDEwLTA2LTIwMjQgMDY6NTE6MDggLSAyMTIxNjY2MzQy
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