“Why did you ever let me love you? Why did you ever let me peep through the gates of Paradise? Oh! my God! I don’t begin to feel and realize this yet. Presently he began to weave a tale, sorry enough, with all the ancient claptraps and rusted platitudes. She leaped to a world of shabby knowledge, of furtive base realizations. Fortescue rambled round the garden with soft, propitiatory steps, the Corinthian nose upraised and his hands behind his back, pausing to look long and hard at the fruit-trees against the wall. 1. ” “I hope,” he answered, looking at her in some surprise, “that we shall have many more such to think about. Melusine did not attempt to speak. And yet, often when alone, he wondered: had McClintock been wrong, or had she ceased to care in that way? The possibility that she no longer cared should have filled him with unalloyed happiness, whereas it depressed him, cut the natural vanity of youth into shreds and tatters. "So you shall, Sir," replied Austin, who at this moment recollected, with some uneasiness, the applications at the lodge-door during the night. .
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