Wood, whose admiration for masculine beauty was by no means abated, glanced at the well-proportioned figure of the young man, and made him a very civil salutation. Who is she, I say?” “My sister!” Annabel faltered. The evenings were dulcet and soft. "One-and-twenty, ah!" repeated Gay. ” He looked down at his heavy Sears work boots as Mrs. But I am not worthy to be any man's wife —far less his wife. His was the Latin turn of thinking; he had fallen in love at thirteen, and he was still capable—he prided himself—of falling in love. She heard the shower running and looked at his floor. "Mr. " "There's a funny idea in my head.
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