The night had swallowed him up, but his work on her was done. Proper enough now, when he could not help himself, but the habit would be formed; and when he was strong again it would become the normal role, hers to give and his to receive. How much Mary knew is a mystery. I was the black sheep, I was hurried out of the way. ’ ‘Fiddle,’ scoffed Miss Froxfield.
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