Part of her even believed that her mother would have wanted her to stop feeling guilty and to be happy. CHAPTER XXII. . Charvill’s fury was burning out. He had not been successful as the world counted success; the fat bank-account, the filled waiting room of which he had once dreamed, had never materialized except in the smoke of his evening pipe. A pair of startled blue eyes looked up into his. That did not sound like the name the young man had offered in the tower of the water-clock. Sheppard heaved a deep sigh, and opened her eyes, which now looked larger, blacker, and more melancholy than ever. His mind seemed to be a remarkably full one; his knowledge of detailed reality came in just where her own mind was most weakly equipped.
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