’ ‘Indeed, I’m beginning to think so,’ he said ruefully. Miss Mary to the life, I said, and so she is. . ’ I wanted, as I have never wanted before, to take you up, to make you mine, to carry you off and set you apart from all the strain and turmoil of life. I said I knew he disliked and distrusted you and your work—that you shared all Russell’s opinions: he hates Russell beyond measure—and that we couldn’t possibly face a conventional marriage. It'll be turning over to-morrow. Suddenly, such a shout as has seldom smitten human ears rent the air. ‘I’m damned if I see what you have to complain of,’ uttered Charvill, a faintly bewildered note underlying his irascibility. "I've done all I can to the portrait here.
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