|
The excerpt represents the core issue or deciding factor on which you must meditate, and is drawn from Margret Howth: A Story of To-day by Rebecca Harding Davis: The clear evening light fell on Holmes, as he stood there looking
down at the dying little lamiter: a powerful figure, with a face
supreme, masterful, but tender: you will find no higher type of
manhood. Did God make him of the same blood as the vicious,
cringing wretch crouching to hide his black face at the other
side of the bed? Some such thought came into Lois's brain, and
vexed her, bringing the tears to her eyes: he was her father, you
know. She drew their hands together, as if she would have joined
them, then stopped, closing her eyes wearily.
"It's all wrong," she muttered,--"oh, it's far wrong! Ther' 's
One could make them 'like. Not me."
Margret Howth: A Story of To-day |
