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Smith, Francis Hopkinson, 1838-1915

"Peter: a novel of which he is not the hero"


And then, with mind at rest, now that he was sure Ruth had not
heard, and with eyes again blazing as his thoughts dwelt upon the
outrage, he poured out his story, Miss Felicia listening intently,
a curious expression on her face, Peter grave and silent, his gaze
now on the boy, now on the hearth-rug on which he stood. Only once
did a flash illumine his countenance; that was when Jack reached
that part of his narrative which told of the denunciation he had
flung in his uncle's face concerning the methods by which poor
Gilbert had been ruined.
"And you dared tell your uncle that, you young firebrand?"
"Yes, Mr. Grayson, I had to; what else could I say? Don't you
think it cruel to cheat like that?"
"And what did he say?" asked Peter.
"He would not listen--he swore at me--told me--well, he ordered
me out of the room and had the lights put out."
"And it served you right, you young dog! Well, upon my word! Here
you are without a dollar in the world except what your uncle pays
you, and you fly off at a tangent and insult him in his own house
--and you his guest, remember.


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