That's the kind, my friend, that always fall soft. ” “What do you mean—by too late?” he demanded. She grasped at the right one, massaging where his grip had been and Gerald hoped he had not bruised her. “But it makes me feel inhuman,” he added. Never had her father explained. They did not care— servant or master, it meant nothing. "Oh! if I had known this," he exclaimed, "what guilt, what remorse might have been spared me!" "Repentance comes too late when the deed's done," returned Wild, bitterly.
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