God is a jealous God, and He turned upon me relentlessly. Pile it on! But if you can hear the voice of the mote, the speck, don't let her suffer for anything I've done. Young noblemen ought to be indulged in their frolics. It frightened her to behold her heart and mind thus laid bare; but the chapter following would reassure her. "Old Van told me if he grew up he would be hanged. “It is the same man, Annabel,” she said.
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