Once they were below, McClintock turned upon the doctor. But tell me how have you escaped from the confinement in which you were placed—come and sit by me—here—upon the bed—give me your hand—and tell me all about it. I pray, Anna, that you may find your happiness. He had been reading Belfort Bax, and declared himself a convert. His ideas about girls and women were of a sentimental and modest quality; they were creatures, he thought, either too bad for a modern vocabulary, and then frequently most undesirably desirable, or too pure and good for life.
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