of his master, except it be a humane master; and from such
A glance from Oswald's eye, sadder than any tear.
"So that you cannot be reconciled?"
A gesture. Oswald's words were always few.
"Such grief I partly understand," said he. "But time will cure it. Some day another lovely face -"
"We'll not talk of that, Orlando."
"No, we'll not talk of that," acquiesced the inventor, walking away again, this time to the window. "For you there's but one woman; - and she's a memory."
"Killed!" broke from his brother's lips. "Slain by her own hand under an impulse of wildness and terror! Can I ever forget that? Do not expect it, Orlando."
"Then you do blame me?" Orlando turned and was looking full at Oswald.
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