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Chapter 18: The Jungle Toll (continued)
"The same vines and leaves will cover us, the same rains beat upon us; and when the spirit of her mother is abroad, it will find us together in death, as it has always found us in life.
"No; it is I alone who may go, for she was my daughter-- all that was left on earth for me to love."
"I shall go with you," said Clayton simply.
The old man looked up, regarding the strong, handsome face of William Cecil Clayton intently. Perhaps he read there the love that lay in the heart beneath--the love for his daughter.
He had been too preoccupied with his own scholarly thoughts in the past to consider the little occurrences, the chance words, which would have indicated to a more practical man that these young people were being drawn more and more closely to one another. Now they came back to him, one by one.
"As you wish," he said.
"You may count on me, also," said Mr. Philander.
"No, my dear old friend," said Professor Porter. "We may not all go. It would be cruelly wicked to leave poor Esmeralda here alone, and three of us would be no more successful than one.
"There be enough dead things in the cruel forest as it is. Come--let us try to sleep a little."
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