He could not tell by the look of her whether she was glad or sorry that presently she would be free. This was good. "First take the child," cried Darrell, holding up the infant, and clinging to the oar with a dying effort. . Here was a hole as wide as a church-door. I’m sorry to disappoint you. The spinsters—who on the morrow would vanish out of the girl's life for ever—had already left their imprint upon her imagination. I thought that he was dead.
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