There was a murmur or two among the watchers on the bench, but no one ventured to intervene again. 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. From the first there had always been between her and her listeners that electrical sympathy which only a certain order of genius seems able to create. “I’d have to sneak out after everyone was asleep.
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