“There’s endless reasons, no doubt, why we shouldn’t,” he said. And, if I'd my own way, I'd drown 'em all like a litter o' puppies. The next morning she went out with her post-office savings bank-book, and telegraphed for a warrant to draw out all the money she had in the world. ‘You see,’ he pursued blandly, ‘I lead a life of the most intolerable boredom. Supposing that was it; at least, a solution to part of this amazing riddle? Supposing her father had made her assist him in the care of the derelicts solely to fill her with loathing and abhorrence for mankind? "Didn't you despise the men your father brought home—the beachcombers?" "No. "But don't wait for me, Sir Cecil.
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