Wood, in indignant surprise. “I have hurt my father,” she said; “I have hurt my aunt. She had felt deserving of the punishment, as he had been mainly concerned that she would be killed by accidentally falling into the pit, but it was a terrible insult. One Friday afternoon, in this pleasant month, it chanced that Mr. Why am I here—thirty years of loneliness? Because I know women, the good and the bad; and because I could not have the good, I would not take the bad. I don’t want to hear you. His diminutive hand flew out from behind his back like a wounded bird.
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