What might it have been?’ Mrs Sindlesham shook her head helplessly. The girl was flushed with excitement, bright-eyed, and braced for a struggle; her aunt had never seen her looking so fine or so pretty. Perceiving he was about to take leave, Kneebone ventured to ask whom he had had the honour of addressing. Ain't he, Madam?'" "He is, indeed," replied the widow, fervently; "more—much more than that.
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