Still, my tutor was a highly educated scholar—my father. He stepped in with a heavy foreboding of calamity. She could not be more than twenty; and though want and other suffering had done the work of time, had wasted her frame, and robbed her cheek of its bloom and roundness, they had not extinguished the lustre of her eyes, nor thinned her raven hair. She had even confided to him how lonely it was in the island. Manning regarded her thoughtfully for a moment and stroked his mustache. "This suspense is worse than torture.
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