" "Never!" rejoined Kneebone, with increased ardour,—"never, till I receive from your own lips the answer which is to make me the happiest or the most miserable of mankind. Her eyes quizzed the major. ” Her mind drifted into a speculation about her sister. "How is Mr. . That world of fine printed cambrics and escorted maidens, of delicate secondary meanings and refined allusiveness, presented itself to her imagination with the brightness of a lost paradise, as indeed for many women it is a lost paradise. That ring manifestly occupied her thoughts a great deal. I’ll have to make a visit out of town. " Some innate sense of balance told her that something was wrong with these tales. I feel almost inclined to regret the fact.
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