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Wells, H. G. (Herbert George), 1866-1946

"Secret Places of the Heart"

V. in all other respects free? How could one do it?
The speculative calm of the sunken brown eyes deepened.
His thoughts went back to the white face of the private enquiry agent.
"Absolutely nothing, Sir." What had the fellow thought of hinting?
Nothing of that kind in V.V.'s composition, never fear. Yet it was a
curious anomaly that while one had a thousand ways of defending one's
daughter and one's property against that daughter's husband, there was
no power on earth by which a father could stretch his dead hand between
that daughter and the undue influence of a lover. Unless you tied her up
for good and all, lover or none....
One was left at the mercy of V.V.'s character....
"I ought to see more of her," he thought. "She gets away from me. Just
as her mother did." A man need not suspect his womenkind but he should
know what they are doing. It is duty, his protective duty to them. These
companions, these Seyffert women and so forth, were all very well in
their way; there wasn't much they kept from you if you got them cornered
and asked them intently. But a father's eye is better. He must go about
with the girl for a time, watch her with other men, give her chances
to talk business with him and see if she took them. "V.V., I'm going
to make a man of you," the phrase ran through his brain.


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