But her heart kept on sinking. I shall have no faith in future in bolts and bars. From head to foot he was attired in the fashionable garb of the young man of the moment. He had the same dark eyes, though lighted by a fierce flame; the same sallow complexion; the same tall, thin figure, and majestic demeanour; the same proud cast of features. I wish”— she found she had embarked on a bad sentence—“I wish we needn’t have quarrelled.
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