” Ennison took the document, tore it half in two without looking at it, and flung it back in Hill’s face. You must always shave and part your hair straight. I am sorry that I do not know any one in London. Perhaps I'd better open it now. Her mother brewed potions to scent her hair, sweet balms of anise for her lips and hands, told her wonderful secrets, some decidedly un-Christian. The haste to send her upon her way now had but one interpretation—the recognition of his own immediate danger, the fear that if this tender association continued, he would end in offering her a calamity quite as impossible as that which had happened—the love of a man who was in all probability older than her father! The hurt was no less intensive because it was so ridiculous. He turned his back on that temptation. ’ ‘Damnation!’ ‘What the devil ails you?’ demanded his friend, striding forward.
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