Dizzily, she grabbed at the mantel for support and, resting her head on her hands, paid no heed to a betraying sound behind her—until an unexpected arm encircled her. His face was much handsomer than Gianfrancesco’s, his lips thinner, his brow much more noble and wise. The cloth was removed, and Wood, drawing the table as near the window as possible—for it was getting dusk —put on his spectacles, and opened that sacred volume from which the best consolation in affliction is derived, and left the lovers—for such they may now be fairly termed—to their own conversation. "Well, who'd have thought of Shotbolt beating us all in this way!" said Ireton. Bon. 1 with active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project Gutenberg-tm License. “You do not know what you say.
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