’ Lucilla Froxfield laughed gaily. “This has almost killed your father. Why should he stare at her in this fashion?—for all the world as if she had pointed a pistol at his head? CHAPTER III He had said it, spoken it like that … his own name! After all these weeks of trying to obliterate even the memory of it!… to have given it to this girl without her asking! The thought of peril cleared a space in the alcoholic fog. ‘Poor Hilary. They were talking of “Alcide,” as they often did in those days. Then he hovered undecidedly for some seconds with his hands in his pockets and his mouth puckered to a whistle before he turned to go home by the Avenue. "What's the matter?" he cried. Sheppard, horror-stricken.
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