"But, I half suspect, of your father. But there was no feeling of remorse; there was only the sensation of exaltation. Who could say that the girl's father had not once been a fashionable clergyman in the States and that drink had got him and forced him down, step by step, until—to use the child's odd expression—he had come upon the beach? She was cynical, this spinster. This costume, though somewhat extravagant, displayed his slight, but perfectly-proportioned figure to the greatest advantage. I didn't understand then, but I do now. Was he your natural father? Did you know him?” “No, I didn’t.
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