“Please stop, cabman,” she ordered. " "Poor child!" muttered Trenchard, abstractedly; "the whole scene upon the river is passing before me. ’ Her lips parted, but she did not speak. A jar of pink roses upon a tiny table seemed to gain an extra delicacy of colour from the sombre curtains behind. That dress! Only a man—and an unworldly one—would have permitted you to proceed on your adventure dressed in a gown thirty years out of date. ” “Oh! but you ARE splendid and open and fearless! As if I couldn’t allow! What are all these little things? Nothing! Nothing! You can’t sully yourself. I mean to have you! Don’t frown me off now.
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