Dora Thorne
He read it slowly, tears gathering fast in his eyes, his lips quivering, and his hands tightly clinched.
"My poor Beatrice!" he exclaimed; and then the strength of his young manhood gave way, and Lionel Dacre wept as he had never wept before. "The mean, pitiful scoundrel!" he cried, angry indignatio...
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Episode 101
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