“But for the discontented fool, Wha wants to be oppression’s tool May envy gnaw his rotten soul, And discontent devour him. —Rev. John Skinner, “Tullochgorum” When Ranald arrived back in Port Scarnose two days later, the shrunken, weak, feeble lady beside him with thinning white hair and stooped shoulders, a mere forty-nine alongside Ranald’s seventy-three, was recognized by no one as he helped her off the bus. What might have been going through the woman’s mind as her eyes fell upon the village... over which, in a manner of speaking, she had once ruled, both as a girl and, for a season, as the presumed duchess? Now she was being helped off the bus by the very hand of a man she had despised all her life, a man whose wife, and maybe whose daughter she had also killed if Maggie’s dying words were right, yet who had never brought charges against her, and who was now doing his best to minister the compassion of mutual humanity to her. Is such a one even capable of grasping the first elemental principles of such a forgiveness as had been sitting at her side for the past two hours?MoreLessRead More Read Less
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