It was a night of storm and terror, which promised each moment to become more stormy and more terrible. ’ ‘But what of justice?’ asked Lucilla, evidently dazed. The picturesque scoundrel had the true gift; and Spurlock was filled with pity at the thought of such genius gone to pot. I suppose you have come to see your granddaughter. Quite trying of him not to be there when he is wanted. Mother—dear mother!" he added, clasping her in his arms, "Look at me again.
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