" "Mr. “Will you come this way,” she said, “into the drawing-room? There is no one there just now. He had never liked to be hugged, but she wondered if his corporeal needs would be made apparent by human touch. ‘One of your countrymen, perhaps?’ The girl clammed up, the moon of her white face staring up at him in the darkness. He rang the doorbell, even though she had already cracked the door for him. Thrilling, she began to dance, swirled, glided, and dipped. This last operation was so fatiguing, that for a short time he was obliged to pause to recover the use of his fingers. . " "May I trust you?" cried Thames, eagerly. ‘And you, my girl, if you’d been born at all, would have been just what you think you are. "If this document is correct," continued Wood, "and I am persuaded it is so,— you are as unfortunate as wicked.
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