4. CHAPTER XII. She was her mother’s child, fair of face, doted upon and spoiled by her attentions. "And now," he continued, sternly, "was it your master who has just ridden by?" "No," answered Quilt, sullenly. He drew a little breath and stepped back. She put a hand to the lad’s cold cheek and choked on a sob. So far she had not heard the sound of his voice.
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