Do I, Bess, eh?" "Nobody whatever, love," replied Edgeworth Bess; "nobody but me, dear. “Your affectionate “FATHER. Heaven will not permit the continuance of such wickedness as you practise. If only sometimes he would grow angry at her, impatient! But his tender courtesy was unfailing; and under this would be the abiding bitterness of having mistaken gratitude for love. ’ ‘A mistake, I agree.
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