If Mr. ’ Jack blinked. His eyes squeezed shut in ecstasy; he let out a sigh. She would come back and write letters, carefully planned and written letters, or read some book she had fetched from Mudie’s—she had invested a half-guinea with Mudie’s—or sit over her fire and think. O'Higgins struck a match and lit his Henry Clay, thereby drawing upon himself the mutual disapproval of the spinsters. She wondered even at this late day how she had been able to hold her maddening curiosity in check.
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