"I am accounted a fair shot, as well as a tolerable swordsman, and I will give proof of my skill in both lines, should occasion require it. I could never have talked to you like this, forgetting everything that parts us, forgetting even your age, if I did not love you utterly. ‘Jacques!’ He stopped, but he did not turn. Why? Love was a word of God's, and yet her father had denied it—denied it to the Book, denied it to his own flesh and blood. “Yes I did. You see, I’m separated from my wife. "Ah!" he exclaimed, "a letter, beginning 'dearest Aliva,'—that's your mother's name, Thames. And he had destroyed all this.
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