The haste to send her upon her way now had but one interpretation—the recognition of his own immediate danger, the fear that if this tender association continued, he would end in offering her a calamity quite as impossible as that which had happened—the love of a man who was in all probability older than her father! The hurt was no less intensive because it was so ridiculous. In a voice husky with suppressed despair, she answered. “I don’t think she quite sees the harm of those people or the sort of life to which they would draw her,” she said. Wood, "and I'm sorry and surprised he hasn't swung for his crimes before this. “My dear sweet Lucia.
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