"You've been quizzing my friend Kent, I perceive, in your Burlington Gate. " "You're agitating yourself unnecessarily, Joan," returned Wood, in a soothing voice. Her attenuated arms were crossed upon her breast; and her black brows and eyelashes contrasted fearfully with the livid whiteness of her skin. Listening attentively, he fancied he heard the breathing of some one near him, and moved cautiously in the opposite direction. He wrote poems to her beauty that he recited from a seemingly infinite memory. Nine years ago, I was honest—was happy.
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