"It is her child!" shrieked Rowland, in a voice heard above the howling of the tempest, "risen from this roaring abyss to torment me. The kindly American consul-general had himself taken her to the bank, where her banknotes had been exchanged for a letter of credit, and had thoroughly advised her. He sat with folded arms and knitted brows, thinking intently. General Lord Charvill disinherited him for his pains. "Why were you afraid to show me this picture, Winny?" asked the youth.
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