Laughed at me, then. Tom swore he hadn't set eyes on him since the trial. Time after time he reminded her of how powerless she would be without him, how unkind the world was towards single women. “It may be more difficult than you think,” she said. Immediately after it, he was off again, and that, let me tell you, was the last anyone saw of him. I’ve no name for it yet. She’s got a great imagination. All her tender lures, inherent and acquired, had shattered themselves futilely against the reserve he had set between them. There all the loose characters thronged, assignations were openly made, and the spectators diverted themselves with the vagaries of its miserable inhabitants. Her father was distinctly irascible, and disposed more than ever to hide away among the petrological things—the study was turned out.
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