” She turned her face to the fire, gripped her hands upon her elbows, and drew her thin shoulders together in a shrug. Don’t you think that the shade of my hair is lovely?” “There is nothing particular the matter with the shade,” Anna answered, “but it is not nearly so becoming as before you touched it. Do you think that it makes for happiness to force oneself into the extravagant belief that love is the only thing in the world worth having, and to sacrifice for it independence, self-respect, one’s whole scheme of life. " "Write him," urged Spurlock, finding speech. "Sit down, fool!" "Jack," said Kneebone, who had been considerably interested by the foregoing scene, "are these regrets for your past life sincere?" "Suppose them so," rejoined Jack, "what then?" "Nothing—nothing," stammered Kneebone, his prudence getting the better of his sympathy. I saw them both. ” She cried once they were in the great room. 82 She was putting a manuscript away, gingerly locking its heavy tooled cover, but it was a huge, awkward tome. " "What proof have you that I am?"—was the return bolt. Last time— you made me feel snubbed. And she—’ ‘She!’ interrupted the young lady crossly. ” For a time she sat on a rail before leaving the road for the downland turf.
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