" "Stop!" interposed Edgeworth Bess; "Mr. Gerald took Madame’s hand and kissed the fingers with a little more warmth than punctilio demanded. "Your son," replied Jack,—"your miserable, repentant son. Oh! that Mr. He stood up, apparently intending to put an arm about her, but she stepped back from him quickly. You are the High Priestess of Life. He motioned the young man to the rear chair, because at that hour the youth appeared to be a quantity close to zero.
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