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She looked directly at his face, his perpetually graying hair, his hawkish nose, his long cheekbones. The law would accord her all her previous rights: she would return to the exact status out of which in his madness he had taken her. Wood sank, submissively, into a chair, while his daughter hastened to execute her arbitrary parent's commission. She wanted to stay where she was; but tears were dangerous; the more she wept, the weaker she would become defensively. His skill has not been tried.
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