She had suddenly become as the jewels of the Madonna, as the idol's eye, infinitely beyond his reach, sacred. I'll tote it myself. “Look here, father,” she said, with a change in her voice, “suppose I won’t stand it?” He regarded her as though this was a new idea. "Oh, God! would you take him from me?— would you murder him?" "His father's name?—and he is free," rejoined Rowland, holding her arms.
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