Why? Love was a word of God's, and yet her father had denied it—denied it to the Book, denied it to his own flesh and blood. ‘And you know, my dear, I do think you must make up your mind to beard this wretched grandfather of yours. Meantime, O'Higgins wended his way to the Victoria, mulling over this and that phase, all matters little and big that bore upon the chase. I’ve got to run to get to my Study Hall.
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