Ennison spoke at last. " "Well," said Sister Prudence, "remember, I tried to save you some future heartaches. “Heaven knows!” said Mr. God! I have cheated myself into a belief that the boy perished! And now my worst fears are realized —he lives!" "As yet," returned Jonathan, with fearful emphasis. She had never experienced anything so disagreeable in her life as the sense of being held helplessly off her feet. It's always hard work for a rich man's son to stand alone. The letter began: “MY DEAREST GIRL,—I cannot let you do this foolish thing—” She crumpled notes and letter together in her hand, and then with a passionate gesture flung them into the fire. Down there, whisky raises the very devil with white men.
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