It was so hopeless to put it to them. It was fortunate that by this time Winifred had so far recovered, as to be able to afford her father the best and only solace that, under the circumstances, he could have received,—her personal attentions. But here the resemblance stopped. “What do you think of that?” he asked. Twice Spurlock went to Copeley's—twenty miles to the northwest—for ice and mail. “Please forgive me—for one moment,” she sobbed. I shall quit this roof to-morrow.
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