You think you will. ‘That is settled then. “No! My father. Blackness was beginning to consume the cornfield. I have been very foolish, but it is over. Just sit down on that stool again and let’s talk of this in cold blood. “Sit down,” he said, and perused—“perused” is the word for it—for some moments. Because here was the haven for which she had been blindly groping: the positive abolition of all her father's rights in her—the right to drag her back. Why? Because she knew him in life, because, so long as she could remember, he had crossed and recrossed her vision—Sidney Carton.
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