” Annabel pulled down her veil to hide the tears. “Mr. Analysis would come later, when the primitive conscience, satisfied, would cease to dominate his thought and action. "Och! he's a broth of a boy!" "Why, I thought he'd broken your head, Terry?" "Phooh! that's nothing? A piece o' plaster'll set all to rights; and Terry O'Flaherty's not the boy to care for the stroke of a supple-jack. I have a new cult to teach, a new enthusiasm.
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