Mr. His pale and boyish waist was nearly as slim as her own. ‘But you will not be in a convent. Almost simultaneously they burst out laughing. "We're forgetting," he said. ” “All these things,” he muttered bitterly, “this desperate resolve to take your life into your own hands, your unnatural craving for independence, would never trouble you for a moment—if you really cared. " "It may be; but if it shortens the distance and lightens the journey, I care not," retorted the widow, who seemed by this reproach to be roused into sudden eloquence. " "A short man, isn't he, about your height, Sir,—with a yellow beard, and a face as sly as a fox's?" "Hem!" replied Wood, coughing slightly to conceal a smile; "the description's not amiss.
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