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Book, page 191 / 247 of the illumination they saw that tears were flowing unchecked down Marjory's face. The effect.of this grief upon the professor was, in part, an effect of fear. He seemed afraid to touch it, to go near it. He could, evidently, only remain in the outskirts, a horrified spectator. The mother, how. ever, flung her arms about her daughter. " Oh, Marjory! " She, too, was weeping. The girl turned her face to the pillow and held out a hand of protest. " Don't, mother! Don't !" "Oh, Marjory! Oh, Marjory!" " Don't, mother. Please go away. Please go away. Don't speak at all, I beg of you." " Oh, Marjory! Oh, Marjory!" " Don't." The girl lifted a face which appalled them. It had something entirely new in it. " Please go away, mother. I will speak to father, but I won't -I can't-I can't be pitied." Mrs. Wainwright looked at her husband. " Yes," said the old man, trembling. "Go! " She threw up her hands in a sorrowing gesture that was not without its suggestion that her exclusion would be a mistake. She left the room. The professor dropped on his knees at the bedside and took one of Marjory's hands. His voice dropped to its tenderest note. "Well, my Marjory?" She had turned her face again to the pillow. At last she answered in muffled tones, " You know." Thereafter came a long silence full of sharpened pain. It was Marjory who spoke first. "I have saved my pride, daddy, but-I have-lost-everything
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