Afterward, one afternoon, he hovered about her, and came and sat beside her and talked of beauty and the riddle of beauty for some time. He read "The Beachcombers" to McClintock that night after coffee; and when he had done, the old trader nodded. She thought of her aunt and that purse that was dropped on the table, and of many troublesome and ill-requited kindnesses; she thought of the help of the Widgetts, of Teddy’s admiration; she thought, with a new-born charity, of her father, of Manning’s conscientious unselfishness, of Miss Miniver’s devotion. The shouts, yells, and groans which they uttered, and which were echoed by the concourse in the rear, were perfectly frightful. Never mind, I’ve got plenty. "Mr.
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