It’s odd how little I know of him, and of how he feels and what he feels. Say, that girl fooled me at first glance. She traced him by his scent. He never cries nor frets, as children generally do, but lies at my bosom, or on my knee, as quiet and as gentle as you see him now. He could not know about the Remenham connection, could he? No one knew but her father and Martha. CHAPTER II. Only her face was clear, frail and delicate, almost flower-like, with the sad haunting eyes ever watching his.
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