“Dear friend,” she said, “do you not think that you are breaking an unspoken compact? I am very sorry. You’re a good friend. The boy she had loved was gone. There was Major Price—you must recollect him, Sir Rowland,—he stumbled as he was getting out of his chair at that very gate. But with the morning, the glorious unstained morning the passion of living would stir even the blood of a clod. " This strong feeling of remorse having found a natural vent, in some degree subsided, and he addressed himself to his present situation.
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