’ Kimble frowned direfully, staring at the weapon with its gold hilt and decorative pattern down the blade. For if Gerald had indeed gone to see this Prudence, it was better to wait for his report. . Why? Love was a word of God's, and yet her father had denied it—denied it to the Book, denied it to his own flesh and blood. Her aunt, a faded, anæmic-looking lady of somewhat too obtrusive gentility, was still sitting with her hand pressed to her heart. It was now evident that he had not been normal that first day.
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