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“MY DEAR DAUGHTER,” it ran,—“Here, on the verge of the season of forgiveness I hold out a last hand to you in the hope of a reconciliation. " Jack was about to comply; but not liking the man's manner, he walked on. This time they would call it murder. Alas! that the punishment of his offences should fall on her head. "Look at him!" Ruth looked. It had certainly caused some havoc in the uninhabited mansion, chewing through Holland covers to get at the furniture beneath, and knocking down a fire guard and a couple of wooden stands.
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