“I suppose I should let go if I had. As the Wastrel played, Spurlock knew that the man saw the inevitable end—death by drink; saw the glory of the things he had thrown away, the past, once so full of promise. “You will have some tea?” she asked. "I am perhaps exceeding my authority in demanding so slight a sum," continued Jonathan, modestly, "and the Master of the Mint may not be disposed to let you off so lightly. Why? He could preach the Word and deny Love!—tame the savage heart, succour broken white men!—pray with his face strained with religious fervour! The idea made her dizzy because it was so inexplicable. "I feel guilty, going away and leaving that ignorant child; but our days have been so planned that we dare not change the schedule. I have come to take you home; and hereafter my word will be the law.
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