And Mother trusted him. “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. She would lure him, as he was an easily tempted child predator who could even more easily be turned into prey. "I guessed as much. Some one may observe us. Whatever he wrote he was: he became this or that character, he suffered or prospered equally. A swift frown brought the still dark brows together for a moment.
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