In the old days he had been something of an athlete—a runner, an oarsman, and a crack at tennis. She returned home to the Beck house soaked and soggy. "Leave the room," interposed Kneebone, angrily. "Buck up! While there's life there's hope. But never had the hand touched her with a father's caress; never had he taken her into his arms; never had he kissed her. ’ Baring his teeth in a smile of triumph that was every bit an animal snarl, and leaping up onto the seat of the pew he was in, he jumped hazardously to the next.
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