"For my part, I don't think you ever quite got over the accident you met with on the night of the Great Storm. “MY DEAR DAUGHTER,” it ran,—“Here, on the verge of the season of forgiveness I hold out a last hand to you in the hope of a reconciliation. When they were home, the pair headed for the Big Apple or the warmth of the Beck’s family table. While the girl kept the patient from dwelling upon his misfortunes, whatever these were, he himself would have to keep the girl from brooding over hers.
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