Her father, her own father! She remembered now a verse from the Psalms her father had always been quoting; but now she recited it with perfect understanding. I thought then perhaps you didn’t care, that you were like so many of them. The thought caused him an odd kind of pang—of pity, naturally. ” Mr. "Rot, weren't they?" "No. "Constance—or, rather, Mrs. ” “She has changed a good deal,” Anna admitted.
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