I’ll protect you!” He cried. The girl stood with her hands behind her back, sulky, resolute, and intelligent, a strand of her black hair over one eye and looking more than usually delicate-featured, and more than ever like an obdurate child. So he sharpened a score of pencils, and after fiddling about and rewriting the last page he had written the previous night, he plunged into work. CHAPTER II.
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