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Reade, Charles, 1814-1884

"Hard Cash"

"
He hid his face, to conceal its incongruous expression: and heaved a deep
sigh.
Alfred turned his head away and groaned.
After a while he rose from his seat and went to the door; but seemed
reluctant to go: he cast a longing, lingering look on his father, and
said beseechingly: "Oh think! you are not my flesh and blood more than I
am yours; is all the love to be on my side? Have I no influence even when
right is on my side?" Then he suddenly turned and threw himself
impetuously on his knees: "Your father was the soul of honour; your son
loathed fraud and injustice from his cradle; you stand between two
generations of Hardies, and belong to neither; do but reflect one moment
how bright a thing honour is, how short and uncertain a thing life is,
how sure a thing retribution is, in this world or the next: it is your
guardian angel that kneels before you now, and not your son: oh, for
Christ's sake, for my mother's sake, listen to my last appeal. You don't
know me: I cannot compound with injustice. Pity me, pity her I love, pity
yourself!"
"You young viper!" cried the father, stung with remorse, but not touched
with penitence.


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