"Her blood be upon her own head, then," replied Rowland, sternly. I can esteem him, regard him; but, love him as he ought to be loved—that I cannot do. There was some justification for her annoyance, for negotiation of the secret passage demanded either a stout heart, or a desperate one. And then, as she stood there, with the fragments of the torn canvas at her feet, some even caught upon her skirt, the door was thrown open, and a girl entered humming a light tune. She had refused to eat human beings when she had first learned her fate.
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