“I cannot thank you, Sir John,” she said. I have only seen your sister for a very brief time, and I am a little past the age when a man does headstrong things. " "My mind's made up," rejoined Jack, coldly,—"we part to-night. And in its way it was very well. “Well,” she admitted. I was mean to him. The blow had brought him back to the realm of sober thought. He has no imagination, no real generosity.
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