’ The dagger was in her hand. She peered into the darkness. Supposing that was it; at least, a solution to part of this amazing riddle? Supposing her father had made her assist him in the care of the derelicts solely to fill her with loathing and abhorrence for mankind? "Didn't you despise the men your father brought home—the beachcombers?" "No. Gerald shook his head. Sheppard. Give me my pistol and my dagger. “This party must be so boring for you. He breathed a little sigh of satisfaction. " CHAPTER V. Life is morality—life is adventure.
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