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CHAPTER XVI. “You see, it comes after all,” she continued, “from certain original convictions which have become my religion. He had saluted her with elaborate civility, his eyes distended with indecipherable meanings. McClintock wrote me about you; but all I needed was the sight of your face as it was a moment gone. "Have you broken out of the cage, Jack?" "Something like it," replied the lad carelessly. Why? Love was a word of God's, and yet her father had denied it—denied it to the Book, denied it to his own flesh and blood. “Even if he lives here you may go all your life and never come face to face with him again. She had not seen him in two and a half centuries.
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