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He
coloured
a
little
at
the
retort
,
as
though
it
had
touched
him
in
a
way
she
did
not
suspect
.
“
Well
,
then
.
.
.
you
must
know
one
has
to
make
allowances
.
.
.
He
’
d
been
drinking
.
.
.
.
”
“
I
know
all
that
,
too
.
I
’
ve
seen
him
so
before
.
But
he
wouldn
’
t
have
dared
speak
to
me
that
way
if
he
hadn
’
t
.
.
.
”
“
Hadn
’
t
what
?
What
do
you
mean
?
”
“
Hadn
’
t
wanted
me
to
be
like
those
other
girls
.
.
.
.
”
She
lowered
her
voice
and
looked
away
from
him
.
“
So
’
s
’
t
he
wouldn
’
t
have
to
go
out
.
.
.
.
”
Harney
stared
at
her
.
For
a
moment
he
did
not
seem
to
seize
her
meaning
;
then
his
face
grew
dark
.
“
The
damned
hound
!
The
villainous
low
hound
!
”
His
wrath
blazed
up
,
crimsoning
him
to
the
temples
.
“
I
never
dreamed
—
good
God
,
it
’
s
too
vile
,
”
he
broke
off
,
as
if
his
thoughts
recoiled
from
the
discovery
.
“
I
won
’
t
never
go
back
there
,
”
she
repeated
doggedly
.
“
No
—
—
”
he
assented
.
There
was
a
long
interval
of
silence
,
during
which
she
imagined
that
he
was
searching
her
face
for
more
light
on
what
she
had
revealed
to
him
;
and
a
flush
of
shame
swept
over
her
.