"Then it is not too late to save him. But what a monster was this Emile. As to Mr. Wood could stand it no longer. She was unusually soft and gentle in her manner to him. “I hope you’re satisfied. "No matter how much I tell of myself, I shall always keep something back. The Wastrel—as we call him—cannot play when he's sober; hands too shaky. “This place is very beautiful. Either you have had to love people or hate them—which is a sort of love, too, in its way—to get anything out of them. It was less will than education. Look at this ring;—it's a diamond, and worth a mint o' money. After all, the Wastrel was in luck: he was alone. You mustn't go by what you read so much as by what you see and hear. " O'Higgins extracted a cigar from a pocket and inspected it.
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