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Updated: May 28, 2025
No one who ever saw that father with that daughter could doubt that he loved her intensely. And this intensity gages for me the strength of what else was in him. Mrs. Pethel's love, though less explicit, was not less evidently profound. But the maternal instinct is less attractive to an onlooker, because he takes it more for granted than the paternal. What endeared poor Mrs.
"Not while Jimmy Pethel's taking the bank," he answered, with a laugh. "Is that the man's name?" "Yes. Don't you know him? I thought every one knew old Jimmy Pethel." I asked what there was so wonderful about "old Jimmy Pethel" that every one should be supposed to know him. "Oh, he's a great character. Has extraordinary luck always."
Now indeed I had turned my eyes on Pethel's profile; and my eyes saw there that which stilled, with a greater emotion, all fear and wonder in me. I think that for the first instant, oddly, what I felt was merely satisfaction, not hatred; for I all but asked him whether, by not smoking to-day, he had got a keener edge to his thrills. I understood him, and for an instant this sufficed me.
Pethel's paradox, I was grateful to the daughter for bouncing back among us, and asking how soon we should be ready to start. Pethel looked at his wife, who looked at me and rather strangely asked if I was sure I wanted to go with them. I protested that of course I did. Pethel asked her if SHE really wanted to come. "You see, dear, there was the run yesterday from Calais.
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