Sniveling brats, little fatherless bastards, you should breathe a sigh of relief. He turned to Ruth and McClintock. “We were good friends in Paris, weren’t we? You made me all sorts of promises, we planned no end of nice things, and then—without a word to any one you disappeared. In a momentary fury she seized and tore in pieces the study which remained upon the easel. His conscience never told him to go back and take his punishment; it tortured him only in regard to the deed itself.
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