" "I hope you never may, my love," humbly acquiesced the carpenter. Set the boy free. The unequal battle went on. ” He paused and looked at her, and said, with a sudden drop into a confidential undertone, “Or else I want to pray. And yet, often when alone, he wondered: had McClintock been wrong, or had she ceased to care in that way? The possibility that she no longer cared should have filled him with unalloyed happiness, whereas it depressed him, cut the natural vanity of youth into shreds and tatters.
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