"It is her child!" shrieked Rowland, in a voice heard above the howling of the tempest, "risen from this roaring abyss to torment me. ’ ‘Oh yes, yes. She saw her aunt in tears, her father white-faced and hard hit. I wanted the magic of love. With a strong tendency to satire, but without a particle of malice or ill-nature in its display. She screamed involuntarily—she had never in her life screamed before—and then she began to wriggle and fight like a frightened animal against the men who were holding her.
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