Pottiswick’s daughter found her tongue. Sensitive, aren’t they?” She chuckled. “Nigel, Nigel,” she cried. The latter looked very pale, either from the effect of his wound, which was not yet entirely healed, or from suppressed emotion,—partly, perhaps, from both causes,—and wore his left arm in a sling. “We always have things out with OUR father, poor dear!” said Hetty.
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