She crushed the letter in her hand. She had not at first the power for concealment. We’re hard stuff!” Then she went on: “To think that is my father! Oh, my dear! He stood over me like a cliff; the thought of him nearly turned me aside from everything we have done. The shouts, yells, and groans which they uttered, and which were echoed by the concourse in the rear, were perfectly frightful. She was as pale as death, but she seemed to have lost the power of movement.
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