The highest form of knowledge was magic: the priesthood. The candles—for McClintock never used oil in his dining room—were burning low in the sconces. She may address me as “Grandfather” if she chooses, since I’m obliged to accept her in that capacity. She screamed at Sebastian. Ruth could tell the doctor; she could bare many of her innermost thoughts to that kindly man; but there was an inexplicable reserve before this young man whom she still endued with the melancholy charm of Sydney Carton. They had not so far been of much personal interest to Gerald, but tonight was different.
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