He would teach her all he knew of life so that if the Hand should ever reach his shoulder, she would be able to defend herself. He pulled on her shoulder, bringing her mouth to his in a kiss. She caught the fact that it was something more than strong drink that laid you out. The night was now profoundly dark. “Odd little room,” said Ann Veronica, dimly apprehending that obtrusive sofa. “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.
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