Man's fate is in his own hands. “You yourself have decided that—apart from the question of Annabel. “David Courtlaw!” she repeated. ” She laid her fingers upon his arm, and they both stood still. Her foster father had been outside for most of the morning, working on trimming the maple trees and mowing the lawn. "Keep off, you accursed jade!" roared Jonathan, "—off, I say, or—" And he struck her a violent blow with his clenched hand. Couldn’t face me with what he’d done, the miserable blackguard.
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