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Braddon, M. E. (Mary Elizabeth), 1835-1915

"A Novel"

and the wear and tear
of a life in Calcutta. I dare say my mouth and chin are rather harder
and sterner in their character than Laura's."
There was nothing more said upon the subject of the likeness; by-and-by
Mr. Dunbar got up, took his hat, and went towards the door.
"You will come with me, Lovell," he said.
"Oh, no, Mr. Dunbar. I would not wish to intrude upon you at such a
time. The first interview between a father and daughter, after a
separation of so many years, is almost sacred in its character. I----"
"Pshaw, Mr. Lovell! I did not think a solicitor's son would be weak
enough to indulge in any silly sentimentality. I shall be very glad to
see my daughter; and I understand from her letters that she will be
pleased to see me. That is all! At the same time, as you know Laura much
better than I do, you may as well come with me."
Mr. Dunbar's looks belied the carelessness of his words. His face was
deadly pale, and there was a singularly rigid expression about his
mouth.
Laura had received no notice of her father's coming. She was sitting at
the same window by which she had sat when Arthur Lovell asked her to be
his wife. She was sitting in the same low luxurious easy-chair, with the
hot-house flowers behind her, and a huge Newfoundland dog--a faithful
attendant that she had brought from Maudesley Abbey--lying at her feet.


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