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. "A secret is too valuable a commodity to be thrown away. He sat up in his chair again, the colour came back to his cheeks. And it hampers us. Part 7 That was two days before Christmas Eve. She laughed altogether in her old manner. And for twelve years he has been so; until his long security, well-nigh obliterating remembrance of the deed, has bred almost a sense of innocence within his breast.
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