Why? Love was a word of God's, and yet her father had denied it—denied it to the Book, denied it to his own flesh and blood. ‘I’ll take wine,’ the lady said briefly, turning back instantly to Hilary. ’ ‘Get rid of the wench,’ Roding said brutally. Hitherto it had been qualified by her conception of all life as a compromise, by her new effort to be unexacting of life. I am loved. ’ She stopped, her lips tightening.
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